The Magic of Kindness
by Orbiting-Star
Summary: What if Ella made it to the ball without the help of the fairy godmother? What will she do when she discovers who the apprentice really is? Based on the 2015 movie, and told primarily from Kit's perspective. This story is complete in 14 chapters. New chapters will be posted as soon as edits are complete.
1. Chapter 1

Kit stood in the window of his dressing room, adjusting his sword belt one last time as he watched the line of carriages making its way down the palace avenue. In a few moments he would take his place in the ballroom at his father's side, and watch princesses, duchesses and maidens from all over the land, and beyond, enter and try to catch his attention. There was, however, only one face that he would look for.

Would she come? The question had plagued him every day in the past few weeks. He clung on to the sincere look in her eyes as she had responded positively to his wish to meet her again. That day in the forest seemed so long ago, yet he had kept every word of their conversation fresh and vivid in his mind. No one had ever spoken to him as she had. No woman had ever dared venture her opinions so freely to him, and it wasn't until she had berated him over the hunting of a stag that he'd realised how sick he was of the fawning sycophants that surrounded him at court.

Would she come? He looked again at the line of carriages stretching for miles through the park, his heart beating a little faster at the thought that she might, even now, be seated in one of them.

A quiet knock on the door, and the Captain of the Royal Guard entered.

"Your Highness, it's time."

"Thank you," and Kit fell into step with the tall dark-skinned officer as they walked towards the ballroom.

"You seem nervous, my Prince," the Captain said, glancing at the way Kit's hands fidgeted as they walked.

"Am I so obvious, Captain?"

"To one who knows you well," the Captain smiled. "Do you still fear that your mystery maid won't appear?"

Kit nodded. "I do not know what I will do if she doesn't come. Or, for that matter, if she does."

"Well," said the Captain as they reached the ballroom door, "as it's a ball, you could always start by asking her to dance."

* * *

Ella pinned the last curl into place, and smiled at her reflection. She hadn't had much time to get ready; her stepsisters kept her running to and fro with pins, gloves and fans until the last minute. Still, she was clean and tidy, and the soft fabric of her mother's dress twirled about as she turned. She did feel a twinge of regret as she slipped into her shoes, unable to avoid the comparison between the worn old slippers and the lovely new leather pumps that she had helped Anastasia and Drisella don. But it didn't matter to her as long as she could go to the ball.

Actually, she reflected, as she gathered her skirt and waved a sweet farewell to the mice, she wasn't planning to stay in the ballroom for long enough for anyone to notice her old shoes. She just wanted to sneak one glimpse of the finery, and then go in search of Mr Kit. Although she didn't know what kind of apprentice he was, she planned to ask a servant if they knew him. Perhaps they could walk about the gardens a while. The thought of his warm smile and blue eyes put a spring in her step as she went downstairs.

Her stepmother and stepsisters gaped at her as she stood at the bottom of the staircase, and Ella could already see the displeased look on Lady Tremaine's face.

"It cost you nothing,' she explained quickly. "It was my mother's old dress, you see, and I took it up myself."

"Ooh la," Drisella scoffed, "Cinderella at the ball! No one wants a servant for a bride."

"After all I've done…" her stepmother began, but for once Ella interrupted her, eager to explain herself.

"I don't want to ruin anything. I don't even want to meet the Prince."

"You won't. There's no question of you going." Lady Tremaine looked as if she might be sick at the very idea. Behind her, the two girls looked at her with contempt.

"But all of the maidens of the land are invited, by order of the King."

"It is the King I am thinking of! It would be an insult to the royal personage to take you to the palace dressed in these…old rags." From the look on her face, Ella could tell that her stepmother knew just how hurtful those words were.

"Rags? This was my mother's."

"Well, I'm sorry to have to tell you, but your mother's taste was questionable." Lady Tremaine approached her slowly, gesturing with contempt at the pink dress. "This…thing is so old-fashioned, you'll be the laughing-stock of the ballroom."

Drisella joined in. "It's a ridiculous old-fashioned joke." Anastasia nodded vigorously.

"But...but... I only want to see my friend...I won't go into the ballroom at all if you prefer…"

Lady Tremaine leaned towards Ella, a twisting sneer marring her even features. "Let me make myself quite clear. I will not have anyone associate my daughters with you. It would ruin their prospects to be seen arriving with a ragged servant girl. Because that is what you are. And that is what you will always be." Ella felt the tears beginning to prick behind her eyes as Lady Tremaine pointed a finger at her angrily. "Now mark my words. You shall _not_ go to the ball!"

The three women turned away towards the carriage. Ella was frozen to the spot. She was used to mockery and cruel comments, but this went beyond anything she had known, and now her dearest wish had been dashed to pieces. She would never see Mr Kit again. She walked towards the door, uncertain whether there was anything else she could do.

As she came to the door and watched her stepmother and stepsisters get into the carriage, however, Ella heard someone quietly say her name.

"Miss Ella!"

It was the coachman, beckoning to her. She recognised him at once. Mr Carter lived in the village and had known her father well. She moved forwards, hoping the women in the carriage wouldn't notice her. Thankfully, they were arguing over whose skirts were in most danger of being creased, and paid no attention to her at all.

"Come on, Miss Ella!" Mr Carter held out a hand urgently, and before she could think about it, Ella grasped it and stepped up onto the coach. He pulled her next to him, making space on the driver's seat.

"Mr Carter! What on earth are you doing?"

He drew a thick cloak around her and his wrinkled face smiled down at her.

"Of course you must go to the ball, my dear. Your father would never forgive me if I left you behind."

"Oh, thank you! I'm so grateful to you for your kindness!" And as the coach moved away towards the palace, Ella curled her fingers around Mr Carter's arm and reflected that she was really a very lucky young girl to have such friends to help her. At least she would be able to try to find Mr Kit, and as long as she stayed out of sight of her stepmother and stepsisters, all would be well.


	2. Chapter 2

Kit was struggling to contain himself. His father had already asked him once who he was looking for. As the ballroom filled with the gaudiest display of fashion he had ever seen, his disappointment was increasing. The first dance was rapidly approaching, and the girl from the forest had not arrived.

"There's still time, your Highness," the Captain whispered to him. "There are still a few more waiting to come in."

Kit nodded and turned his attention back to the ballroom entrance, where a tall red-headed lady in a green gown was curtsying, next to two girls in dresses that would put a peacock to shame.

"The Lady Tremaine and her daughters... the very clever Miss Drisella, and the very beautiful Anastasia." The herald's announcement was met by a few soft titters from the crowd, and Kit had to suppress a smile at the droll description. The ladies made their way down the steps, fans fluttering violently. Kit looked at the remaining guests waiting to be announced, and his heart sank further; there were only a few more, and none who looked like the girl he was waiting for.

Just then, a flash of blonde hair caught his attention. A girl in a simple pink dress had slipped past the herald while his attention was focused on the Tremaine family, and was now edging her way along the wall and down the crowded steps. As her face came into view from behind a tall rotund general, Kit's heart stopped beating for a second, and then began hammering loudly in his ears.

She had come. She was there, in front of him. She was _real_. He felt as if he would never be able to tear his eyes away from her face.

She stopped on the stair landing, pressed against the balustrade as if she was trying to disappear, her eyes casting about nervously. Kit knew the second she saw him, her gaze connecting with his as if it were a living thing. She began to smile, but a look of confusion crossed her features, and then dawning comprehension. Even from this distance, Kit could see the deep pink blush rising to her cheeks as she realised that he was no mere apprentice.

To his horror, she turned abruptly and began to climb the stairs towards the exit again. Before he knew what he was doing, he was moving, not even acknowledging his father as he took the stairs down from the balcony at a rapid and undignified pace. The Grand Duke was coming towards him accompanied by a dark-haired lady in an exotic red gown, but Kit brushed past him with a muttered 'excuse me' that would surely earn him a reprimand later. It didn't matter in the least; his only thought was that he needed to stop that girl from leaving, no matter what.

As he took the main stairs two at a time he lost sight of her amongst the crowd. His breathing rapid, he made his way past bowing gentlemen and curtsying ladies who, thankfully, backed away to give him room. He emerged into the upper hallway and looked about him frantically, but the girl in the pink dress was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did she go?" he demanded, turning to the blue and yellow liveried footman nearest to the door.

"Who, your Highness?"

"The girl! Blonde hair, pink dress, she must have come past you just a moment ago. For God's sake, man, how could you not have seen her?" In his frustration, Kit spoke more sharply than he meant to.

"I'm sorry, your Highness," the man stammered, bowing low. "There are so many people milling about..."

"I saw her, your Highness," came a voice, and Kit looked around to find one of the palace guards stepping towards him.

"Thank God, did you see which way she went?"

"Down that hall," and before the guard could say any more, Kit was striding in the indicated direction. At least she hadn't left the palace completely; there was still a chance he could catch up to her.

Kit strode along the hallway, candlelight reflecting off the gold picture frames and polished marble floor. He couldn't see his maiden, and kept a careful watch for any open doors that might indicate where she had gone. He knew he didn't have much time to search for her; his father would expect him to open the ball and he'd be missed very soon. He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned a corner and saw a figure with golden hair, standing in a window alcove. He took a deep breath, adjusted his white dress coat, and moved towards her.

The girl had her face turned away and buried in her hands. She hadn't noticed him yet, and he didn't want to startle her, so he made his footsteps heavier to ring against the stone floor. She spun around, and for a moment he thought she might run away again. But as he stopped about ten paces away from where she was standing, she straightened her back and then dropped into a low curtsy.

"It's you, isn't it?" he said, though he knew it was. Her hair was the same flaxen gold, though more tidily brushed, and he could never mistake those deep brown eyes.

"Your Royal Highness" she murmured as she rose.

"I think I preferred it when you called me Mr Kit," he answered, and saw her blush in response.

For a moment both of them stood there, unsure what to say or do next. Kit broke the silence.

"I'm so glad you came." Finally she looked up and he saw a smile in her eyes, the look he remembered so well from their meeting in the forest. He took a step closer, heart pounding and his mouth dry. "Why did you run away?"

"I..." she stopped, unsure, then went on. "I was surprised, seeing you. I needed to think." She looked at him honestly. "I came to see Mr Kit."

"Not the prince?"

"No." She laughed a little. "The prince is far too grand for me." Then she looked at him sincerely. "I am happy to see you, though."

Kit felt as if his heart might burst through his chest in response to her words. He took another step towards her and asked the question that had pressed on him for the last few weeks.

"May I know your name?"

"My name is Ella. Ella Devereux."

"Miss Devereux," Kit took another step, bringing him close enough to see how quickly she was breathing, her eyes wide and open. He never wanted to look away again. He extended his hand towards her, trying to formulate some sensible words. "Perhaps you would...that is, it would give me the greatest pleasure if you would accompany me to the ballroom and honour me with the first dance."

Ella took a step towards him and reached out her hand, but then her face fell. "Your Highness, I'm sorry but I can't."

"I don't understand."

"I can't go in there with you. It's hard to explain…but I'm not supposed to be here."

That stunned him. "Every maiden in the land is invited to this ball."

"I know, but..." she seemed to be searching for the right words, "I came without my stepmother's permission. If she sees me, she'll be furious." A look came into her eyes, and he knew it was fear.

Kit was about to protest that no one would dare to be furious with her if she was with him, but the sudden change in her demeanour made him pause. Her words in the forest came back to him. _They treat me as well as they are able. Others have it far worse, I'm sure_. There was something here that he was missing, but her look told him that she would not be persuaded, and that for her sake he should not try.

At that moment, he heard footsteps behind him.

"Your Highness," the Captain called out, "apologies for the interruption, but you are needed in the ballroom."

"Please," Ella said in a low urgent voice, "I have to get home before they see me."

"Of course," Kit said, though the disappointment of not being able to take to the ballroom floor with her as he had imagined was sharp within him. "Come with me."

They turned and moved towards the Captain, who raised his eyebrows at Kit but said nothing.

"Captain, would you ensure that Miss Devereux is escorted home in one of our carriages?" He didn't wait for a nod from the Captain, knowing that his trusted friend would help him in this, but turned back to Ella. In a low voice, he said,

"May I see you again? Soon? I have so much...that is, there are things...I would like to..." He stopped, not sure what he was trying to say.

"I should like that," she answered with the same honest smile that had captured him at their first meeting.

He thought quickly. "Can you meet me tomorrow? At noon, in the forest glade where we first met?" She nodded. "And you won't run away this time?"

That made her smile. "I promise," she said, and stretched out her hand to seal the bargain. Instead of shaking it, Kit raised it to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, thrilling at the slight tremble of her hand and the pink in her cheeks.

Reluctantly, he turned away and addressed the Captain. "See that she gets home safely, my friend."

"Of course, your Highness. Your father is waiting." The gentle reminder was much needed. Kit wanted nothing more than to abandon the ball and take Ella home himself, but his duty to his father and their guests couldn't be ignored any longer.

"Until tomorrow, then," he said, and took a final look at his forest maiden before directing his steps towards the ballroom.


	3. Chapter 3

"This way, Miss." The Captain of the Royal Guard gestured down the corridor the way he had come, and the young lady fell into step with him. He glanced at her when she wasn't looking. She seemed calm except for the fact that she was chewing her bottom lip between her teeth. Unlike Kit, the Captain noticed immediately that she was wearing a dress at least ten years out of fashion, and that her shoes had seen better days.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to escort you personally, Miss. I have duties here this evening. One of my guards will accompany you." She nodded, but said nothing.

He took her by a quiet back staircase down to the lower floor of the palace and out to the stables, giving the order to one of the coachmen to ready a carriage, and snapping his fingers at the guard by the outer door. Thankfully it was one of his most trusted lieutenants; this matter needed to be treated discreetly. He stepped away from Miss Devereux, who was distracted by petting the horses being tethered to the carriage.

"You will escort this young lady home, and then report back to me. After that, you will not speak of these events to anyone without my permission. Do you understand?" The guard nodded, and they both approached the young lady again.

"Miss, if you would be so good as to tell us where you live, Lieutenant James will see that you are safely returned."

She described her house, at the edge of a village not far from the palace, and the Captain handed her into the carriage. He was about to close the door, when she leaned forward with a start.

"Oh," she said, "I need to…that is, the coachman who brought me here will worry if I don't return with him. Could I…go to find him before I leave?"

"I can have a message conveyed to him, if you like."

"Oh, thank you. His name is Mr Carter…he is driving the Tremaine coach." The last part was said more quietly, as if she was giving something away.

"I will make sure he is informed. Shall I have a message taken to Lady Tremaine as well?"

She shook her head vigorously, and whispered, "No, please don't. That won't be necessary." He didn't press the issue.

As the door closed and the carriage drove slowly out of the palace yard, the Captain smiled a little. The Prince would no doubt be glad for any information he could ascertain about this mysterious young lady – perhaps a private word with Mr Carter was in order.

* * *

Ella leaned back into the cushions of the carriage and shut her eyes, trying to take deep breaths. The last half hour was a whirlwind in her mind, and only one fact stood out with any clarity.

Mr Kit was the prince. The prince was Mr Kit.

She screwed her eyes shut with embarrassment again. How could she have been so naïve? Thinking back to their first meeting, it should have been obvious that he wasn't just an apprentice. His fine clothes, the lovely black charger he'd been riding, the mere fact that he was out hunting with a royal guard – she had been so distracted by him that she had paid no attention to what was right in front of her nose. She wondered why he hadn't said anything.

He had been so kind this evening. No, more than kind – he'd deliberately sought her out after she had fled from the ballroom. Her shock at seeing him had been so great, and in an instant she had understood that all her plans to see Kit the apprentice were useless. There was no way for them to speak without being noticed; all eyes were upon him. And even if the scene at home earlier hadn't made her afraid of what Lady Tremaine might do on discovering her disobedience, as soon as she had entered the ballroom she had seen that at least some of what her stepmother had said _was_ true. Looking about at the finery of the ladies in the room, where even the lowliest merchant's daughter was wearing something new and brightly coloured, it was clear to Ella that her old dress and shoes _would_ make her the laughing-stock of the kingdom, especially if she was seen in the prince's company. And although Ella cared nothing for her own embarrassment, she would never dream of embarrassing him.

So she had run and found a quiet corridor to calm herself before going back to the carriage to wait with Mr Carter. She had been utterly surprised when the Prince appeared behind her. Their conversation was nothing like what she had imagined when she had dreamed of meeting Mr Kit again – but he had been kind and courteous, and the look in his eyes when he said 'It's you' drove away some of her uncertainty. Whatever else had happened, he _had_ been pleased to see her, and in his honest face she had seen that he, at least, did not care what dress she wore, whatever Lady Tremaine might say.

As the carriage rattled along the road to her home, she leaned back and smiled. The evening had not gone to plan at all – but one thing had gone right. She had seen Mr Kit again, and she would see him again tomorrow. It would not be easy to steal away from the house unnoticed, but she would find a way.

* * *

The next morning, Kit winced at his weary feet. It had been a very long evening. As he had walked back to the ballroom after saying farewell to his forest maiden, he knew that he was now in a difficult position. His father and the Grand Duke expected him to choose a bride this evening, but there was a certainty in his heart that he would not find anyone in the ballroom to match the fair lady he had just left. How could he do his duty to his father while ensuring that he did not appear to favour anyone for the rest of the evening? He determined that his best course of action was to dance with as many different women as he could, and never with the same person twice.

So, he had accepted the Grand Duke's introduction to the Princess Chelina of Zaragosa, and danced the opening waltz with her. But, instead of continuing on with her as might have been expected, he bowed, and then walked over to the next nearest maiden he could see to lead her on to the floor. For the next three hours, he had taken hardly any pause, but danced with every unmarried woman in the room, from the oldest spinster to the fifteen-year-old daughter of the butcher, who was so overawed by him that she forgot every dance step she had ever known. No wonder his feet were sore.

Only one other moment in the evening stood out to him with any clarity. The Captain had re-entered the ballroom a short time after he had left him with Miss Devereux, and nodded to him across the crowded room. That was reassuring, and in the next available pause, he made his way over to where the Captain was standing, taking a glass of water from the nearest servant and gulping it down.

"You are certainly making yourself very popular this evening, your Highness," the Captain joked as he approached.

"What do you mean, my friend?"

"Only that you have danced with every available woman in sight. All of them will go home with a story about how they held the Prince's attention, at least for a few minutes." They stood close together, and Kit lowered his voice.

"All well?"

"All well, Kit. She's been seen safely home, and I have some information for you." Kit took a breath to ask, his eyes shining at the thought that the Captain knew a bit more about the woman he himself knew so little about, but the Captain raised his hand to stop him.

"Not now. Not here. Tomorrow."

And Kit had to content himself with that. He spent the rest of the evening dancing and avoiding the Grand Duke's attempts to involve him in a longer conversation with Princess Chelina, who, it was plainly obvious, was the preferred candidate for his choice of bride. Kit had no doubt that she was very pleasant and suitable; but he knew that she and every other woman in the room would be disappointed with him, for his usual bright wit and cheerful conversation had been much subdued. It was, he had found, very difficult to focus on his current partner when half his mind was replaying an earlier conversation with someone else.

As he finished dressing and pulled on the coat that his manservant held out to him, he directed his thoughts to that someone. Ella. Her name had been ringing in his ears ever since he had heard it. If he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her after their first meeting, he now felt that he would never be able to think about anything else. The time they had spent together the previous evening had been frustratingly short, and the hours to their arranged meeting already seemed too long.

Impatient, he left his room and went in search of the Captain, who he knew could normally be found in his study at this time of day. Indeed, he was there, and Kit closed the door, grateful that they could speak in private.

"Well?" Kit demanded.

"Won't you sit down, Highness?" The Captain indicated the chair in front of his desk, but Kit was too agitated to sit.

"Come on, old friend, don't keep me waiting any longer. Tell me everything."

The Captain smiled. "Lieutenant James reported back to me. He took Miss Devereux home; she lives just outside Little Wootton by the edge of the forest where we first met her.

"It seems," the Captain went on, "that she is the stepdaughter of Lady Tremaine. I spoke to the coachman who brought the family; her father married Lady Tremaine several years ago but is now deceased." Kit noticed the Captain hesitate. He thought back to the previous evening; yes, he remembered Lady Tremaine and her two odd daughters. He didn't remember much about them, but their expensive yet garish gowns did come to mind. He vividly remembered Ella's look as she told him that her stepmother had forbidden her to come to the palace, and was struck by the sharp contrast between her simple pink dress and the expensive silks the Tremaine ladies had worn.

"Tell me," Kit said again, sinking down into the chair. "Tell me everything you know."

"The coachman couldn't or wouldn't tell me much. He did say that it seemed as if Lady Tremaine and her daughters had been preparing to leave the house without Miss Devereux. He was able to offer her a ride next to him so that she could come. Reading between the lines of what he said, I don't think he approves of how Miss Devereux has been treated since her father died, but he wouldn't furnish any specific details."

Kit blanched at the thought of his delicate Ella sitting atop the carriage, exposed to the cold air and wind. His mind also began to picture what might be meant by the Captain's last statement, and he paled even further. "What should I do, then? I have to see her again. I have to…to protect her, if she needs it."

"Yes, I didn't think I would be able to dissuade you from your plans for today. Consider, though, that if she was forbidden from attending a ball, even on the invitation of the King, it may not be possible for her to come to the forest today."

"She'll come, I know she will. And if she doesn't, I'll go to her." Kit spoke firmly. "We know where she lives now – why shouldn't I visit her?"

"Only one reason, your Highness," the Captain pointed out, "that it is clear that she is, if not mistreated, at least not of an equal status within that household. Why else would she have been prevented from coming to the ball? What difficulties might occur for her if her connection to you is discovered?"

It was a fair point, but Kit pressed on. "Regardless, I must see her today. I must ask her – find out what is happening."

"And what will you do? If Lady Tremaine is legally her stepmother, and if Miss Devereux is not yet of age, you may be powerless to act."

"I'll find a way, Captain. If she wants my help, she shall have it instantly. In the meantime, I want you to make inquiries. Discreetly, of course. Find out everything you can about her parents and her situation. Speak to the villagers, the servants – anyone who knows her."

"Of course. In the meantime, have you given any thought to how you will explain your sudden need to go riding today to your father? I'm fairly certain he and the Grand Duke are hoping you will spend the day with Princess Chelina."

Kit let out an undignified groan. "I know. I'll think of something. Will you be ready to accompany me? Minimal guards, please – I don't want any gossip."

"Of course, your Highness." The Captain watched Kit leave with a thoughtful look on his face. If it hadn't been clear before, it was obvious now. The prince, even if he didn't know it yet himself, was falling in love with this unknown damsel. He'd seen Kit flirt before, express interest in a maiden or two at court – but this single-mindedness of purpose was new, and spoke volumes. It made the Captain nervous; there was more to this woman than was first apparent. Still, his loyalty was to his friend, and if it might make Kit happy, then it was worth his while to assist him.


	4. Chapter 4

Kit stroked the mane of his black horse and looked again at his pocket watch. He was trying very hard not to fidget in front of the Captain and Lieutenant James, but he knew full well that they knew how nervous he was getting. They had been waiting in the forest glade for nearly half an hour and there was still no sign of Ella.

He looked around again, wondering for the fifth time whether they were in the right clearing, then dismissed the idea. He was sure it was the right spot. He wondered if she had changed her mind; after all, asking her to meet him like this in a deserted forest, without a female chaperone, would certainly be considered improper by most. Just as he opened his mouth to suggest that they send Lieutenant James to Ella's house to investigate, he heard a horse whinny nearby, and moments later the sound of galloping hooves approaching. The rider soon appeared from behind the trees and his heart began to pound again as he recognised Ella, mounted on the same dappled grey she had ridden at their first meeting.

As she slowed the horse to a walk and came towards them, he dismounted and threw the reins to Lieutenant James, before catching hold of the horse's bridle and holding him steady as Ella jumped down.

"Miss Devereux," he said, and she smiled at him somewhat ruefully before dipping into a hasty curtsy.

"Your Highness," she said, and with an apologetic look, "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, I couldn't get away any sooner. And I'm afraid I don't have very long before I'll be missed."

Kit bit back the thousand questions her statement raised in his mind, and instead turned to hand the horse's reins to the Captain, with whom he exchanged a private glance. Then he gestured towards the clearing, where they could have a semblance of privacy. "Shall we walk awhile?"

She nodded and turned onto the narrow path. He walked next to her, his mind trying and discarding several openings to the conversation he wanted to have, while he studied her cautiously. Though she was as beautiful to him as ever, the bright sunshine of the noon sun showed him that her collarbones were protruding a little too sharply, and the blue dress she wore, the same as the first time he had seen her, hung a little loosely around her torso and was fraying at the edges.

She interrupted his study of her by saying,

"I love the forest. It's always so peaceful here, don't you think? At least," and he saw her smile broadly, "when there isn't a band of noisy hunters frightening the wildlife."

He nodded and smiled back. "Quite." After a brief pause he went on, "I always loved being out in the palace garden and orchard when I was a boy. There was always a quiet corner or a hedge to hide under when I didn't want to be found."

"I'm sure that frightened the royal guard out of their wits."

"Believe me, I lost count of the number of times the Captain reprimanded me for wasting his men's time looking for me." He gestured back to where the Captain sat on his charger, studiously appearing not to be watching them. "He always made time for me, though, good fellow that he is; we played war games together, back before I knew how little war was a game. It was different then – you could always bring the soldiers back to life." She nodded solemnly.

"And you, who did you have to play with?"

She smiled. "Oh, I had so many playmates. The sheep, and the geese, and all the mice of course."

It was the strangest response he could have expected, but Kit thought it was perhaps entirely natural that this woodland princess should have animals as friends. "Of course. Are they good company?"

"They are excellent listeners." Her wide smile was infectious. They walked on together in the shadow of the trees.

"I'm sure the palace gardens must be beautiful at this time of year," Ella continued.

"They are. My mother loved them – I think that's where I get my love of the outdoors. We spent many happy days there together. Since she died, my father can't bring himself to visit the gardens she designed, but I still find my refuge there." He stopped, unsure about the turn the conversation was taking.

They walked on quietly for a moment, coming out from amongst the trees into the sunlit glade. There was no sound apart from the wind in the leaves and a lone bird twittering in the distance.

"My mother's in heaven too," Ella said, and then she turned and looked at him. "Do you suppose they know each other?"

"I don't see why not," he answered.

"I think heaven is like the palace ball," she said, and at his quizzical expression elaborated, "everyone's invited."

"That's because of you," he told her, and she stopped in surprise. "I made sure that everyone could come because I hoped to see you again."

It seemed she didn't know what to say to that at first, but as they resumed their walk he heard her murmur, "And I nearly didn't come."

"Not because you didn't want to, though?"

"No, of course not!"

Here was the opening he needed. "Miss Devereux, I have to ask – you said your stepmother forbade you to come. Why would she do that?"

There was a long pause, and they walked on together in silence. Kit sensed that Ella was trying to find the right words to begin.

"I...have asked myself that question ever since she first told me I couldn't come. At first I thought it was because she couldn't afford to buy me a dress, and then because she thought I might somehow be an obstacle to her daughter's prospects of catching the prince's attention." That made Kit smile - of all the women he'd danced with at the ball, the Tremaine sisters were the least likely to entrance him.

Ella went on, "But even after I made my own dress, and even after I told her that I had no interest in the prince," and here she smiled weakly at him, "she still said no. I wish I understood it, but I don't. I have always tried to be kind to her and my stepsisters. I try my best to help them every day. It would have done her no harm to let me come, and yet..."

Kit knew exactly what words described such behaviour – cruelty and spitefulness – but he had begun to suspect that these words were not in Ella's vocabulary. He asked her cautiously whether there was no-one else she could have turned to, nowhere else she could go, but she shook her head.

"I have no other family. And besides, it's still my home. I promised my father I would love and cherish it for the happy times we had there together, and look after it while he was gone. I won't break that promise, even though he won't ever come back."

They walked on through the glade. Kit could feel that their time together was already ending as they circled back towards the horses. Ella turned and asked him to tell her about the ball she had missed.

"Well, I think I danced with every woman there. Now my father says I must choose a bride. The Grand Duke wants to pair me off with some princess I barely know and don't love. I'm expected to marry for advantage."

"Oh. Well, whose advantage?" she asked, and he marvelled at her perceptiveness.

"That is a good question."

"But surely you have a right to your own heart," Ella pointed out gently.

"I must weigh that against the King's wishes. He's a wise ruler and a loving father."

"Perhaps he'll change his mind," she said. She was right; he thought his father _could_ be persuaded if he could only meet Ella, though their conversation with the doctor was fresh and raw in his mind. He looked seriously at her.

"I fear he hasn't much time to do so."

Her look of compassion nigh on broke his heart at that moment. "Poor Kit," she breathed.

"In any case," he went on, "their efforts were rather futile. Though I danced with more women than I've ever met before, none held my attention as you have." He saw her blush and shake her head, but he reached out to take her hand gently in his as they stood at the edge of the clearing.

"My mother and father loved each other dearly. I know my father wants to see me married for the sake of the kingdom, but how could I settle for less than the example they gave me? I believe that love and kindness and honesty matter far more than lands or dowries or titles."

"Those other women – they all came to the ball to meet a prince, and that's all they came for – what I represent, the fact that I'll be king one day soon. They look at me and see only what they can gain from me. But you...you only came to see Mr Kit, the apprentice, and nothing else. And I feel as though you already know more about me than they ever could, because you don't care about my title or position. Or at least, you didn't before." He stopped, not knowing whether he was managing to express what he felt with any sense at all.

Ella squeezed his hand. "I still don't," she said so quietly that he had to bend his head to catch the words. "When I look at you, I still see the apprentice I met in the forest. Even though I know who you really are now."

Kit sighed with relief. As he gazed into her eyes, and she looked into his, he felt as though an understanding passed between them, as if it were the natural continuation of the connection that had formed the first time he had laid eyes on her. He could see with absolute clarity that his life would never be complete without her.

He might have done something rash at that moment, but Ella forestalled him. "I don't want to go, but I'll be missed soon," and she turned back to walk the short distance to her horse.

"When can we meet again?" Kit said. "Could you come to the palace? I should like to introduce you to my father, and show you my mother's garden." An image came to him of the swing in the secret rose garden, of Ella sitting on it as he kneeled before her. He determined to make it a reality at the earliest opportunity.

"Is that – I mean, am I allowed? I'm still just a poor country girl."

"Never _just_ that," Kit said with feeling, making her blush again. "I'll speak to my father and write to you, if I may."

"Yes," she said simply, as she reached her horse and retrieved the reins from the Captain.

"Farewell, Miss Devereux," Kit said, reverting to the formal address as he helped her to mount, memorising the momentary feel of her slight frame in his hands as he lifted her.

"Thank you, your Highness." She gave him one long look, and then wheeled about and cantered away.

* * *

AN: Thanks for the positive reviews, everyone! Just to say that some of the conversation in this chapter is adapted from one of the deleted scenes from the movie, which can be found on Youtube. It's a lovely little scene, and I think it's a huge shame it wasn't included in the final cut, so I included elements of it here.


	5. Chapter 5

Kit galloped into the stable yard in high spirits. Though nothing had been said directly, his heart was soaring at the thought that Ella maybe, just maybe, felt something of what he did. He had seen it in her brown eyes that shone honestly and true, in the way she had clasped his hand, her lingering look as she had left him. He was sure that, if his father could only meet her and talk with her, he would see as Kit had that she was exactly what he and the kingdom needed.

He wheeled to a stop in front of the Grand Duke, who was waiting by the stable entrance. That was unusual. He was about to make a joke about the Grand Duke suddenly taking to running his own errands, but the words died on his lips as he saw the seriousness of the Duke's countenance.

"What is it?" he asked, as he quickly dismounted.

"Your father, your Highness. There isn't much time."

Kit didn't pay him another second of attention, but ran through the stable yard and up the palace steps. He ignored the doctor standing solemnly at the door of his father's bedchamber, and instead took his place at his father's side. The old king opened his eyes, and the look on his face took all the joy from Kit's heart and turned it in an instant to sorrow.

"Ah, you've come. Good."

"Father. Don't go." Kit sat down and took his father's shaking hand in his.

"I must. The way of all flesh, boy. But you needn't be alone. Take a bride - the Princess Chelina."

Kit shook his head.

"What if I commanded you to do so?"

"I love and respect you, but I will not," Kit said. "I believe that we need not look outside of our borders for strength or guidance. What we need is right before us, and we need only have courage and be kind to see it."

His father squeezed his hand and looked at him with unmistakable pride. "Just so. You've become your own man. Good." He pulled Kit a little closer. "Perhaps in the little time left to me, I can become the father you deserve.

"You must not marry for advantage. You must marry for love, as I did. Find love, Kit."

Kit smiled through the tears forming in his eyes. "I have, father."

The king nodded slowly. "The girl in the forest. You found her, then."

"Yes." Kit breathed deeply. "You must meet her, father. She is kind and brave and true. And though she is but a merchant's daughter from a village of no consequence, she has more grace and goodness in her little finger than any other woman I have met, save mother."

"And does she love you, Kit?" his father asked with a weak smile.

"I hope so, father. I intend to ask her when I see her again."

"Good. Be cheerful, boy." His father's words were becoming slower.

"Thank you, father." There was so much more to say, but Kit knew their time was up; tears clouded his vision as the reality of the impending loss hit him squarely in the chest.

"Thank you, Kit. I love you, son."

Kit choked out, "I love you, father," and buried his head in his father's chest, where he felt more than heard the last breath leaving his father's body.

* * *

 _Dearest Mr Kit – or I should say, your Majesty,_

 _I heard today of your father's death. I'm so sorry. I know you loved and respected him, and I wish I could have met him. And I know that his passing places a new and heavy burden on your shoulders._

 _I too have lost a father. Remember this great secret: those that we love never truly leave us. Take the time to grieve for what you have lost, until the pain fades into beautiful memories. When you are ready, dear Kit, I will be waiting._

 _Ever your faithful_ _  
_ _Ella_

Ella folded the letter before she could think twice about what she had written, and looked around for a way to seal it. She did not have any sealing wax in the attic, and the last thing she wanted was to risk her stepmother finding her at the desk addressing a letter to 'His Majesty King Christopher' – and how strange it was to think of writing to a king.

She found a blue ribbon in her mother's sewing box and tied it around the note. That would have to do. Tucking it in to the pocket of her apron, she set off on her usual errands, and then took the detour towards the palace, urging her horse onwards quickly.

As she approached the palace a new problem came to mind. How would she convince the guards to take her letter straight to the king? She was sure that any letter dropped off at the gates by an unknown girl would be opened and read by someone else long before it reached Kit – if it ever did.

As she dismounted and walked towards the palace gate, inspiration struck her. She approached the nearest guard.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I might find Lieutenant James?"

"He's on duty outside the west gate, miss" the guard replied. Ella rejoiced at her good fortune and fairly ran around the side of the palace, where she did indeed find Lieutenant James, a black band around his arm and a sombre expression on his face.

"Miss Devereux," he acknowledged as she came into view.

"Lieutenant James, I'm so glad it's you." She approached him a little shyly and held out the letter. "Please, would you be able to deliver this for me?"

The officer took it from her, glanced at the name on the front, and gave her a conspiratorial smile. "Of course, Miss. I'm sure he'll be glad to hear from you."

"You are so kind." She hesitated a little. "Have you… have you seen him?"

"Only briefly, Miss," the officer said gravely, "when I was taking my watch at the lying-in-state of King Robert."

"How did he seem?"

"Tired, Miss – but bearing up, I think. I'll make sure he gets your letter as soon as I'm off duty."

With a final thank you and a heavy heart, Ella walked back towards her horse. She looked up at the palace windows, wishing she had wings to fly along and find Kit, so she could see how he was for herself. But all she could do was go home and wait for his reply.

* * *

Behind one of those tall windows, Kit was sitting at a desk strewn with papers. He reflected that it was a cruel twist of fate that kings should be thrust into their new roles at the very moment they were least prepared, when grief and sorrow made even the simplest decision difficult. Many of the papers in front of him had been meant for his father to deal with, and those that weren't were the ones related to the funeral. Sighing, he picked up the top one and began to read.

A knock came at the door, and Kit frowned. He had given orders that he was not to be disturbed except for matters of exceptional importance. "Come in," he called a little impatiently.

Lieutenant James came into the room, his helmet in one hand and a note tied with blue ribbon in the other. He bowed.

"Your Majesty, apologies for the disturbance, but I was asked to deliver this into your own hand." Kit took the note he proffered and looked at the direction; the handwriting was unfamiliar.

"By whom?" he asked. Most of his correspondence went through the civil servants under the watchful eye of the Grand Duke.

"By someone who, if I may be so bold, Sire, I think you will be glad to hear from."

That pricked Kit's interest, and he untied the ribbon and unfolded the paper to look at the signature. The name written there was the first thing to make him smile since his father had died.

"From Ella." He looked up at the lieutenant, who was valiantly trying to repress an indulgent smile. "She delivered this herself?"

"Yes, Sire – I was on duty at the west gate this afternoon and she asked me to bring it to you personally."

"How was she?" Kit knew he shouldn't betray his feelings to the lieutenant, but James had his and the Captain's confidence, and had already seen enough of Ella to understand the need for discretion.

"She seemed well, Sire. She inquired after you, and seemed most anxious to know how you were faring."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Kit said with feeling. As the man left the room, Kit sat down and unfolded the letter again, this time reading it slowly, then a second and third time, taking comfort from every word. He wished desperately that he could see Ella himself, be refreshed by her warm gaze and kind heart, pour out to her the frustrations and fears he faced, share his grief with her, who knew what it was to be orphaned.

It was not the right time to invite her to the palace, however – it would raise far too many questions that he was not ready to answer. He would have to be patient. At least he knew from her letter that she was thinking of him, and that would be comfort enough for the present.

He shoved aside the papers in front of him and picked up his pen, his heart full.

 _Dearest Ella,_

 _Thank you for your letter. You will never know how your words have cheered my heart._

 _I wish there had been time for you to meet my father. I told him about you after our last meeting, just before he died. I think he understood me when I said that I could not, would not, marry the princess of his choice, but would follow my own heart instead._

 _There is so much I wish to say to you, but words are not enough, and I cannot get away from the palace now – too many arrangements to make, too many matters that need the King's attention. It is a bitter irony that my father prepared me for his death my whole life, and yet now that the moment has come I feel the need for his guidance more than ever. Your presence would steady me, I know, but my needs and desires must wait while I try to live up to the example he set me._

 _Please write and tell me how you are; I will instruct all the guards to bring your letters to me directly, in case Lieutenant James is not on duty when you come. After the funeral and mourning time is over, you must visit the palace. There is a very special place I wish you to see, and something important I must ask you._

 _Your Mr Kit_

* * *

AN: I'm sure Dumbledore won't mind that Ella paraphrases him in her letter to Kit - I think the sentiment is one she would agree with. :-)


	6. Chapter 6

In the end, Kit did not blame Lieutenant James for what happened next, although the poor Lieutenant blamed himself heartily afterwards. But he did, in fact, do exactly as Kit instructed him, delivering the King's letter directly into Ella's hand, as she stood at the door of her house. He was not to know, as he rode away, that her stepsisters were watching from the parlour window.

Ella was about to tuck Kit's letter into her apron, intent on savouring his words later in the evening when all her work was finished, when Anastasia and Drisella came running towards her.

"Ooh, what's this, a letter?" Drisella cried, snatching it out of Ella's hands before she knew what had happened. Ella tried to snatch it back, but Drisella danced out of reach, and passed the letter to Anastasia behind her back.

"Who would write to a dirty old cinder girl?" Anastasia mocked, waving the precious letter around, then examining the plain seal on the back.

"Please give it back, that's mine," Ella pleaded.

"What is all this commotion?" Lady Tremaine cried out, coming into the hallway and bringing all three girls to a sudden stop.

"Cinderella's got a letter, mama," Drisella said, and Anastasia added, "Delivered by a messenger wearing the royal colours."

"Don't be ridiculous, girl," her mother said, but she took the letter from Anastasia and looked at it closely. Ella didn't know what to do.

"Please, it's nothing – it's just my friend, he works at the palace. Please let me have it back."

Lady Tremaine looked her sharply in the face for a long moment, then she ripped open the seal and quickly read over the letter. Her face went deathly white.

"Anastasia, Drisella, stay here. And _you_ will come with me." She led Ella up all the way into the attic. Ella did not know what Kit had written, but she feared what Lady Tremaine might do if the letter made it clear who exactly Ella's friend at the palace was.

Once in the attic, Lady Tremaine slammed the door shut and turned her fury on Ella. "What is the meaning of this?" She thrust the note towards Ella's face, though she kept a tight hold on it. Ella was able to read the opening lines, and elation and fear warred in her heart.

"It's…I…he…I met him in the forest."

"You. You! Why would he care about you?"

"I don't know. But…he is kind and good. Please, let me have the letter back."

Lady Tremaine snatched it away and concealed it in the folds of her gown. "I don't think so, girl. Now listen to me very carefully. If you want to have him, you will do as I say. No one will want you at the palace, no one with any sense, anyway." She straightened herself and walked past Ella into the lighter part of the room. "But, with a respectable gentlewoman supporting you, you might just have a chance." She gestured towards herself with a mocking smile.

"Once you are married, you will make me the head of the Royal Household. Anastasia and Drisella will be paired off with wealthy lords. And I will manage that boy."

Ella's heart stopped for a moment at the mention of marriage; whatever Kit had written must have made her stepmother think that might be his intention. But there was no time to consider what it meant now. She straightened her spine and stared Lady Tremaine hard in the face.

"He's not a boy. No!"

"No? No?!"

"I will not. I was not able to protect my father, or myself, from you. I don't care what becomes of me. But I will protect the King, and the kingdom."

"That is a mistake." Her stepmother went to the door.

"You will stay here. You will not leave. And you will never see your precious prince again."

She closed the door, and before Ella could do anything but beat upon it with her fists, turned the key in the lock, leaving Ella trapped and alone.

* * *

Very late the next evening, a private visitor was announced to the Grand Duke. He bowed as Lady Tremaine swept confidently into his study.

"Lady Tremaine. What an unexpected pleasure," he said, with a complete lack of sincerity.

"Your Grace. I am here to offer you my assistance in a matter of the utmost importance for the kingdom."

He indicated a chair, and she sat down opposite him, arranging her even features into a gracious smile.

"And what might that be, your Ladyship?"

"The King's marriage, your Grace."

"Meaning?" Lady Tremaine pushed a letter across the table to him, watching him carefully as he read it. The Grand Duke was a sufficiently skilled politician to not show his horror, but placed the letter back on the table between them and folded his hands with every semblance of calm.

"How did this come into your possession, may I ask?"

"It was received yesterday by a ragged servant girl in my household, carried by royal messenger. Naturally I was horrified to discover the contents and what they implied."

"How did this girl come to meet the prince?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but she said she had met him in the forest." The Grand Duke started a little, remembering the conversation he had overheard amongst the hunting party the day the prince had refused to kill the stag.

Lady Tremaine smiled coquettishly at him and said, "Of course, I would do anything to prevent such a scandal from being more widely known."

"You told no one else?"

Her smile broadened. "Not even my own daughters. No one need ever know the truth."

"You have spared the kingdom a great deal of embarrassment."

Lady Tremaine's smile widened even further. "And I should like to keep it that way."

"Are you threatening me?" he asked, though, being himself well-versed in the art of blackmail, he knew that she was.

"Yes," she said, with no fear.

The Grand Duke considered a moment. The letter was clearly genuine; he recognised the king's handwriting. This woman had the upper hand, and if he wanted to save the kingdom from scandal, the king from an unfortunate and unequal marriage, and keep his promise to the king of Zaragosa, he had very little choice. He tapped his fingers on the desk. "So what do you want?"

She drew herself up regally. "I should like to be a countess. And I require advantageous marriages for my two daughters."

"And in return?"

"I will ensure that the King never hears from or sees this girl again. Her existence will be concealed from everyone. You have my word."

"Done." The Grand Duke stood up. "What will you do with her?"

"Oh," said Lady Tremaine, and even the Grand Duke shuddered a little at the unscrupulous look in her eye, "you just leave that to me."

* * *

Several days later, Kit was pacing restlessly in the throne room. The doors opened to admit the Captain.

"You summoned me, your Majesty." Kit continued to pace.

"Captain, I'm worried."

"Sire?"

"About Ella – Miss Devereux. It's been a week and I've had no reply to my letter."

The Captain shrugged a little. "She may be unable to write immediately, Sire. Do not lose heart."

Kit shook his head and stopped pacing. "No, I don't think she would keep me waiting this long. I'm concerned that something may be amiss. Will you send Lieutenant James to investigate?"

"As you wish, Sire."

"Have you discovered anything in your inquiries?"

The Captain shook his head. "Not much beyond what we had already assumed. Her parents were well-liked and respected in the neighbourhood, and everyone in the village adores your Miss Ella, it seems. There were several former servants of the household who would have gone on about her virtues for hours if permitted to do so."

"And current servants? What do they have to say?"

"There are none. It seems the whole household was dismissed shortly after Mr Devereux died. A financial issue, I would assume."

Kit frowned. That did not fit with the expensive gowns that Lady Tremaine and her daughters had worn to the ball. "No servants at all?"

The Captain hesitated a little. "If I understood the information I received correctly, it seems that Miss Devereux performs most of the household chores."

Kit reared back in horror. "By herself? How could that be?"

"I don't know, Sire. Perhaps you should ask her when you see her next."

That was not to be, however. Several hours later, Lieutenant James made his way to the throne room, where the king was sitting on the throne following the last of the day's audiences. The Captain took one look at the lieutenant's face, and ordered everyone else out of the room.

As the doors closed, Kit looked up wearily and said, "Lieutenant, you've returned, good. What news?"

The lieutenant sank to his knees, hating his job at that moment. "Sire…"

"What?" Kit stood up slowly at the tone of the officer's voice. "What is it?"

"Sire, I'm so sorry. Miss Ella Devereux is dead."

"No. No, no, no, that can't be right." Kit's knees were threatening to buckle, and the Captain placed a firm hand on his shoulder, though he was just as shocked at the suddenness of this news.

"She can't be… she was well only a few days ago. You saw her yourself. There must be a mistake."

"None, Sire. I went to the house. A riding accident, apparently. The lady gave me this; she said that Miss Ella asked for it to be returned to you before she died." He held out a piece of paper, and when Kit made no move to retrieve it, the Captain plucked it gently out of the poor Lieutenant's hand. He held up a letter in the king's handwriting, unfolded it, and lifted from within the paper a long lock of pale golden hair, tied with familiar pink chiffon.

"Kit, I'm so sorry," the Captain breathed. The king collapsed onto the top step of the dais, his legs no longer able to hold him upright, his grief as yet unable to find expression in words or tears. The Captain walked over and gently placed the letter and lock of hair in his hand, then gestured to Lieutenant James and they left the throne room together.

For Kit, each breath was a separate effort as he stared at the golden hair in his hand. A riding accident. His mind conjured up their first meeting, her runaway horse – without saddle or bridle, how easily she could have been flung from its back that day. Was that what had happened? It seemed impossible that his Ella, so lively and joyous, could be gone from the world, and yet… He stifled a low moan. First his father, now Ella. All of the light was gone from his life. The words of his letter swam before his eyes, the words he had written with such hope in his heart now mocking him cruelly. He could not concentrate on them against the roaring pain that was filling his chest, and he bowed his head and wept.

* * *

AN: Sorry to anyone who was hoping that the exchange of letters would go off without a hitch - the course of true love can't be allowed to run _too_ smoothly!

To the reviewer who asked about the Dumbledore reference in the last chapter: in her letter to Kit, Ella paraphrases what Dumbledore tells Harry in the last chapter of Prisoner of Azkaban, "You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us?" It seemed an apt sentiment for Ella, who carries the memory of her parents with her through everything.


	7. Chapter 7

Ella wearily lifted her head from her pillow. She had not seen anyone for several days, remaining locked in the attic ever since her stepmother had stolen Kit's letter from her. Lady Tremaine had visited her only once more, in order to silently grab her by the hair and cut off a long lock, deaf to Ella's pleas and begging. Food and water had been shoved through the door once or twice a day, but that had now ceased. Two days ago, she had watched from the window as a carriage took her stepmother and stepsisters away, and they had not yet returned. The house was deathly quiet.

At least her friends still kept her company. The mice had done their best to supply her with food and water, but the thimblefuls of liquid they could carry up the long stairs and the crumbs of bread they brought could no longer sustain her. Ella had spent most of one day examining the door to see if she could find any way to break it down, but the lock and hinges were sturdy and she did not have any tools to attempt to force the lock. Then she had opened the window, but there was a sheer drop to the ground – far too great a risk. She might have tried to fashion some kind of rope to break the fall, or attempt to climb around the tower to the lower roof, but dehydration and hunger had robbed her of all her strength, and she knew that if she tried it, she would fall. She had even tried calling out to attract someone's attention, but the house was too secluded – no one would hear her. In her heart, Ella knew she was close to death.

Despair pricked at her. Whatever else she had done or not done in her life, she did not think she deserved to be abandoned to die in this attic. This was cruel indeed. She did not know what Lady Tremaine had done with Kit's letter and her hair, but she could make an educated guess. Kit would no doubt be told she was dead, and soon enough it would be true.

"Oh Gus Gus, Jacqueline – how have I ended up here?" she asked her friends sadly. The four mice pricked up their ears to listen. "It doesn't seem fair. I tried so hard to be good, to keep my promises to mother and father. But it has all been for nothing now."

She sank back to her pillow, too tired and weak to stay upright. The mice retreated to the windowsill and held a squeaked conference. They were joined from the outside by Mr and Mrs Bluebird, who had fluttered over to see what the commotion was about, and twittered with worry as they saw their lovely human friend lying in the cold draughty attic all alone.

The four mice looked at each other, nodding in agreement at the plan they had formulated. Jacqueline was the first to jump up to the window handle, followed by Teddy, Matilda, and last of all Gus Gus, and the window swung open to admit the birds. Ella, who had fallen into a light sleep, was gently woken by their twittering inquiries, and she smiled as they came to land on her finger.

"Oh, it's good to see you, my little friends. Thank you for keeping me company." But the mice and birds were acting rather oddly, hopping and leaping about to get her attention. Finally she looked over, and saw Gus Gus and Matilda dragging a stub of pencil and a tiny scrap of paper towards her.

"What…? Oh," and she saw with clarity what they were proposing. "You would do that for me?" she asked the two birds, and they nodded their little heads vigorously.

Sitting up slowly, she took the pencil and paper from the mice and scratched out a few words, then rolled up the paper into a small scroll. Mr Bluebird took it firmly in his claws and looked at her.

"I need you to take it to the palace, my friend. The big building across the valley. You must try to find a young man with dark hair and bright blue eyes, who wears fine clothes and is addressed as 'Your Majesty'. I know it's an awfully long way to fly, but he is my only hope."

The two birds fluttered towards the window immediately, and Ella looked after them, whispering, "Do be careful," and feeling just a tiny bit more hopeful than before.

* * *

Kit was sitting in the rose garden. The letter with Ella's hair was in the breast pocket of his waistcoat – he kept it with him always now. He was utterly despondent. After the initial shock of the news had passed, he had wanted to visit Ella's house, attend her funeral or at least visit her grave. But the Grand Duke, having been told of what had transpired, had advised strongly against it; any such visit would have to wait until his father's funeral and mourning period was over. It just wouldn't do, the Grand Duke said, for the king to be seen mourning a commoner at the same time as he was supposed to be in mourning for his own father.

Kit had, reluctantly, agreed to remain at the palace until after the funeral at least, but it pained him that he could not bring flowers to the graveside of the woman he had come to love deeply, despite their short acquaintance. He had decided that tomorrow he would defy the Grand Duke's advice and ride over to the village with Lieutenant James, to visit her house and see where Ella had come to rest for himself. He knew that he would never be able to accept her loss until he saw with his own eyes that she was gone.

The whole thing felt horribly _wrong_ to him, but he hadn't had any time to contemplate the situation properly. His father's funeral had taken place two days previously, and the arrangements for that had been remarkably complex. Then he'd had to spend all his time greeting guests, royalty from abroad and mourners from all over the land. The palace had been a hive of activity, leaving Kit no room to deal with any of his grief, or even to think much about any of what had happened. Finally, today, the last guests had departed, and he had escaped to the secret garden to be alone.

The day had brought an even less pleasant conversation with the Grand Duke. Despite his sympathy for Kit's loss, his advisor had made it very clear that, now that Kit's favoured choice of wife had sadly become unavailable, the king must now consider another bride for the good of the kingdom. Princess Chelina had been present at the funeral, and the Grand Duke was clearly eager to arrange their union. Kit could not bear the thought of another woman at his side so soon, but he knew that he would not be able to put the Grand Duke's proposal off forever.

It was a summer's day, but the first touch of autumn coolness was in the air and he was glad of his warm coat. He swung back and forward, trying not to think of how he had planned to bring Ella here. It was hopeless; she was all he could think of, and he allowed himself for a moment to imagine the look of delight that he knew would have graced her beautiful face when she saw the garden.

It was too painful; he rose abruptly, paced for a moment and then flopped onto his back on the grass. Above him, two little bluebirds were circling; he watched them as they flew back and forward across the palace gardens. It was almost, he thought, as though they were looking for something.

The next moment, he held his breath and sat up as both birds fluttered down and sat on the swing next to him. They twittered to each other, eyeing him with bright black button eyes and looking him up and down critically. It was the most odd behaviour.

"Hello?" he said, thinking himself rather foolish as he did so.

Then, to his astonishment, one of them flew towards him, sat on his palm for a moment, and took off again. He looked down to find a tiny scroll of paper in his hand.

"What on earth…?" he murmured, looking at the two birds, who were now hopping up and down and jutting their beaks in the direction of the little scrap of paper with what was unmistakably a sense of urgency. He unrolled it and read the few words, scratched faintly in tiny writing.

 _Dearest Kit, I am trapped in my house all alone. Please come. Your Ella._

He shot bolt upright, startling the two birds into the air. "No, wait!" he called out before he knew what he was saying, and they came back down to their perch. It seemed absurd to think that they understood him, but suddenly he remembered that Ella had told him that the geese and mice were her friends. Perhaps she also counted bluebirds among her acquaintances. He squatted down to their level.

"Is Ella alive?" he asked, and hope filled his heart as they twittered and fluttered about in response. He needed no other incentive, but got up and raced towards the palace, calling loudly to the nearest guard to find the Captain and Lieutenant James immediately and meet him at the stables with a detachment of men. As he ran towards the stable yard, he prayed that Ella's message had found him in time.

* * *

AN: Poor Ella. When I started this story I had no idea I was going to end up putting her through the wringer like this. Never fear though, Kit is on his way!


	8. Chapter 8

"What on earth is the matter, your Majesty?" the Captain asked as he arrived in the stable yard, to find the king already mounting and gesturing to the assembled guardsmen to fall into line behind him.

Kit thrust the little scrap of paper at him. "She's alive, Captain! We must find her before it's too late."

Swallowing down a dozen questions in the face of the king's obvious haste, the Captain wasted no time in mounting his own steed, and leading the column out of the stable yard. As they broke into a fast canter down the palace avenue, he asked Kit, "Where did the note come from, Sire?"

"A friend brought it," he answered, with a rather secretive smile.

"Kit," the Captain said quietly, "if this is really true, if she is alive…"

"Then someone has deliberately been keeping her from me, lied to me about her death. Believe me, I won't rest until I know everything that has happened."

"Neither will I, Kit, neither will I." And with that, both the Captain and the King urged their steeds on more quickly.

As they crossed the bridge and rode hard for Little Wootton, Kit ran the words of Ella's short missive through his mind. Trapped and alone – surely not by accident? Imprisoned, then, and there could only be one person responsible, the same person who had told Lieutenant James about Ella's death and provided the letter and lock of hair as proof. What he could not understand was what Lady Tremaine hoped to gain by this deception. Yes, she clearly disliked Ella, mistreated her, even, but surely she and her daughters could only benefit from an alliance between her stepdaughter and the crown?

He turned the problem over in his mind a few times as they sped along the road, but he couldn't make the puzzle pieces fit together. Kit knew he was missing something; it was lurking at the back of his mind like a shadow, but he could not bring it into the light through the storm of emotion that was whirling through him. Frustrated, he pushed the problem aside. There would be time enough later to learn the full truth; at present there was only one priority, to find Ella and ensure her safety by any means necessary.

It took less than an hour for them to arrive at the old stone house. They all dismounted in the driveway, and Kit looked up at the rambling roses and overgrown garden, seeing for the first time the house in which Ella had grown up. The place looked utterly deserted. As Kit started for the entrance, he could hear the Captain directing some of the men to spread out and begin searching the garden and farm.

Kit banged loudly on the door. "Ella! Ella!" he called, but there was no answer. He tried the door handle but it was locked. The Captain came up behind him. "She must be in here. Open this door, for God's sake." He stepped back to allow several of the soldiers to assist the Captain. The old wood did not resist the combined efforts of their shoulders for long, and they all stumbled into the dimly lit hallway. Kit had a vague impression of painted walls and antique furniture.

"Spread out, search the house! Every room, every cupboard, leave no stone unturned," the Captain directed, and soldiers began to move through the lower floor.

"Wait, shhhh," Kit said, and everyone stopped moving in surprise. But Kit knew he had heard something. High-pitched squeaking was coming from the foot of the staircase. He moved closer and found that he was not very surprised to see four little house mice hopping up and down and squeaking loudly at him. He bent down, caring very little for what anyone would think, and spoke to them.

"Do you know where she is?"

The mice nodded, and then began sprinting up the bannister. Kit beckoned to the Captain, and together they followed the little animals, up, up, up through the house until they reached a locked door at the very top, under which the four mice disappeared. Kit, his heart in his mouth and breathing hard from the exertion of climbing the many stairs, peered through a crack in the door and caught a glimpse of blonde hair and blue dress, lying on the rough wooden floorboards.

"Ella!" he cried out, but there was no movement from her prone figure. He shoved his shoulder against the door, but it would not budge.

"Help me!" he shouted to the Captain who was coming up the stairs behind him with Lieutenant James. Together, they put their weight against the door, which creaked, bowed and then finally gave way, pitching all three of them headfirst into the attic room.

Kit raced over to Ella, lifting her prone body as he knelt down by her side and praying that he was not too late. Thank God, he felt a pulse, weak but still there. A slow breath lifted her chest as he cradled her to him. She was unconscious.

The Captain called down the stairs for some water, while Lieutenant James approached, stripping off his blue riding cloak and handing it to Kit to wrap around Ella's thin, frozen body. She was more emaciated than ever, her skin pale and dry and cold. He was dimly aware of the Captain kneeling on her other side.

"Ella. My love, my darling. I'm here. I won't ever leave you again," Kit whispered, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead with shaking lips. It seemed to rouse her a little; she took a deeper breath and her eyes fluttered open for a moment. She tried to form a word, but her lips were cracked and bleeding and she couldn't manage even a whisper. A cup of water appeared over his left shoulder and he held it to her lips, where she could take a little sip.

"Mr Kit," she breathed, her voice very faint. "You came." Then her eyes fluttered closed again.

Kit would never quite remember how he had managed to carry her down the long stairs, though the Captain later teased him that he had been quite possessive about doing it himself. It was a good thing that his friend was there to organise a carriage, and send one of the guardsmen to summon the royal physician, as Kit was unable to think of anything other than holding Ella in his arms, trying to warm her with his body-heat next to the fire that had been hastily lit in the parlour. She didn't regain consciousness again, but he felt her nestle more closely into him as the warmth reached her limbs. Thankfully the men gave them some privacy, but four little mice and two little bluebirds perched on the chair by the fire and kept watch with him.


	9. Chapter 9

Kit sat in a chair by Ella's bedside and watched her sleep. The cheerful glow from the fire and lamps kept the lengthening shadows of the afternoon at bay. In the corner, a nurse sat quietly knitting and glancing over occasionally at her charge.

The king leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. The days since Ella's rescue had not brought the relief and comfort he had hoped for, as she slipped in and out of consciousness, and he and all who were caring for her feared that she would not recover. The royal physician had been terribly worried that she would develop a fever from her exposure to the cold and wind in the attic, which in her weakened state she would have no hope of fighting. That had, thank God, not come to pass.

At first it had been difficult to persuade her to accept anything to eat or drink; the first time she had tried food her body had rejected it, leaving her retching violently and weaker than ever. So the nurses woke her regularly to feed her small quantities, first just of water and broth, now of thin soups. Slowly, as the days had passed, the danger had lessened.

Kit opened his eyes again and looked at her face. Finally, she seemed to be sleeping peacefully, her breathing natural and easy, her head pillowed on her hand and a hint of colour returning to her skin. He himself had barely slept for the last few days; he had spent every free minute at her bedside, neglecting his duties (and no doubt annoying the nurses greatly), returning to his own chamber only for a few hours of fitful sleep before waking at dawn. Now that he could see her returning to warmth and life, he felt his own exhaustion keenly.

The door opened softly, and a servant beckoned to him. Though he liked to be present when she woke up, he knew that he wouldn't have been disturbed unless it was important, so he rose, stretched his aching back, and left the room quietly. Outside, the Captain of the Guard was waiting.

"How does the lady fare today, your Majesty?" he asked, as they began to walk down the hallway towards Kit's private study.

"Better, I think. The physician feels that the worst may have passed."

"I am more than relieved to hear it, Sire. Lieutenant James has also inquired after her health; may I tell him the good news?"

"Of course," Kit replied. "And tell him he must not blame himself – he did as he was asked, he was not to know what would happen."

Arriving in his study, Kit stripped off his coat and sat down at the small table by the fire, running his hands through his hair. Normally he would maintain more formality even with his close friend, but he was too tired and worn to care. The Captain studied him from the chair opposite.

"When was the last time you ate a proper meal, Kit?" he asked, and when Kit shrugged his shoulders, the Captain rose and tugged the bell pull, ordering a hot meal for them both from the servant who answered the summons.

"Thank you, my friend. I don't know what I would do without you." Kit leaned back and accepted the glass of wine the Captain brought him. "What have your investigations revealed?"

"Several things, Sire," and the Captain helped himself to his own glass and sat down.

"First, it doesn't look as if the Tremaine ladies left in a hurry. All their clothes were packed, they left very little behind. I should say they did not plan to return to the house any time soon."

"Have they been discovered yet?" Kit felt anger clutching at his chest at the mention of the women who, they were fairly certain, had abandoned Ella to a cruel and lonely fate.

"Not yet, Sire. Every soldier, guard, sheriff and agent we have has been placed on high alert. Ports and borders are watched. If they are still in the kingdom, we will find them."

Kit nodded. "Remember, I want them brought here. I need to look that woman in the eye. Now, what else?"

"We've been examining the papers left at Miss Devereux's house, and we've located her father's will." The Captain paused a moment, and Kit leaned forward.

"When Mr Devereux died, he was in possession not only of the house and farm, but several profitable investments and a fortune of around one-thousand florins. He left all of it to his daughter, but it seems the will was never executed.

"As far as we can see, the investments were sold, and almost nothing remains of the money." That was no surprise to Kit, thinking of the obvious profligacy indicated by those expensive silks from the night of the ball.

"Was the will made before Mr Devereux married Lady Tremaine?"

"No, Sire. According to the will itself, Mr Devereux left everything to Miss Devereux because he knew that Lady Tremaine possessed her own means."

"Excuse me?"

"I took the liberty of investigating the will and estate papers of the late Sir Francis Tremaine. His estate amounted to a comfortable fortune and property related to his position in the mercer's guild."

"So Lady Tremaine spent all of that, and then started on Ella's money…" Kit began, but the Captain interrupted him.

"No. I'm reliably informed that the Tremaine fortune has barely been touched."

Kit stood up and began pacing the room. The horror of what the Captain was implying was dawning on him. He turned and faced his friend. "She could have kept herself and her daughters comfortably after Ella's father died, without needing to touch Ella's fortune at all. But instead, she stole everything from her, forced her to serve them, and then…" He couldn't go on.

"Precisely. I think we need no further evidence that Lady Tremaine's actions were, and have always been, intentionally malicious towards Miss Devereux."

Kit sat down again heavily. "What shall I tell her?"

"The truth, Kit. No matter if it is hard for her to hear. She needs to know just how badly she has been used." As their food arrived, they sat together in silence.

Kit helped himself to a bowl of stew, but looked up when the Captain made no move to do the same. He had a grave and somewhat pained look on his face. Kit put the bowl back down on the table.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

The Captain actually winced slightly. "I'm afraid so. After we began to make inquiries about the Tremaine family, one of our own servants came to me with some information. Kit – you're not going to like this. It concerns the Grand Duke."


	10. Chapter 10

Ella woke to find that it was evening. As she sat up in the bed and the nurse helped her to find a comfortable position, she realised that she felt a little more like herself. The last days were a blur; she couldn't really remember anything that had happened since she had rolled up the little scroll for Mr Bluebird, and the only thing that stood out was the feeling of Kit's presence nearby in between the fitful sleep and bad dreams.

The nurse brought her a cup of strong tea, and she drank it, feeling the welcome warmth in her stomach. It was hard to imagine ever eating properly again, but as she breathed more easily, she thought that today she might be able to manage something a little more substantial than soup.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and the king came into the room, smiling when he saw her sitting upright in the bed. She drank in the sight of him, his blue eyes gazing at her with unmistakable affection as he came to the side of the bed and raised her hand to his lips. She blushed a little at the feeling, and dropped her gaze as the reality of what she had suffered threatened to overwhelm her.

Kit studied her carefully as the nurse poured him a cup of tea. Ella was silent, her face mostly hidden from him. He could see the tension in her knuckles as she gripped her teacup.

Looking towards the nurse, he said somewhat awkwardly, "Perhaps you would give us a moment of privacy." The nurse looked a little disapproving, but could hardly disobey what amounted to a royal command and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Kit set down his teacup on the side table and leaned over to take Ella's out of her hand. She still didn't move.

"Ella," he said, with utmost gentleness. "Please look at me."

She raised her eyes to him, and he saw that there were tears running down her face. Before he knew what he was doing or could even consider the proprieties, he sat down on the bed and swiftly put his arms about her, feeling her thin frame through the nightgown and woollen shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She remained rigid for a moment, but then there came a great heaving sob, and she clutched his shoulders and buried her face in his neck.

She cried for at least five minutes, gut wrenching sobs that near broke his heart. Kit said nothing, but simply allowed her to hold on, lending his strength and support to this brave woman who had been so strong alone for so long. Gradually, the sobs lessened to the occasional hiccup, and he stroked her golden hair and felt some of the tension leave her body.

Eventually, she untangled herself from his arms and swiped at her face with a sleeve. He found a handkerchief in his pocket and reluctantly sat down in the chair again as she dabbed her face and blew her nose. When she had collected herself a little, he leaned forward and took her hand again. This time, she looked at him at once, and gave him a shaky smile.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I may have ruined your coat." She pointed at the dark patch where her tears had stained the fabric.

"Believe me, I have far more coats than I could ever possibly need," he joked weakly.

"Your Majesty," she began, but he shook his head.

"Please don't call me that," he asked, and she nodded a little.

"Mr Kit," and he breathed deeply at hearing her say his name once again, "I…don't know how to thank you. You saved my life."

"I had help. I would never have known where you were if your little friends had not found me. Although," he smiled a little, "I'm not sure what the Captain and guardsmen thought of my having a conversation with a group of mice. Nor the fact that they insisted on coming back to the palace in the carriage with us."

"They're here?" A look of delight crossed her face.

"Yes. I am fairly confident my servants believe I have completely lost my mind, to have mice living in a box in my chamber, but I owe them a great debt." In truth, he did not know himself quite how he felt about having the mice in his room, but they were Ella's friends and that was good enough for him. "I'll bring them to see you next time I come."

Becoming more serious, he clasped her hand tightly. "Ella, if I had known…if I had suspected you were still alive, nothing could have kept me away."

"I know. I don't blame you, Kit."

He sighed. "I feel as if I should have known something was amiss. I should have come to you, or sent someone to investigate…"

She interrupted. "How could you have known? Even I could never have guessed... It's not your fault, you mustn't blame yourself."

Of course he blamed himself, but he was relieved that she, at least, did not. "I don't mean to press you, or make you think of things that will hurt you…but if you're feeling strong enough, I need you to tell me exactly what happened." Although he and the Captain had pieced most of it together, he still wanted to hear the full story of her mistreatment from her own lips.

"I will tell you everything, Kit, I promise. All of it, from the beginning. But not right now. What do you need to know for now?" She looked at him, the look in her eyes telling him that she was not quite ready to remember everything she had suffered. Much as he would have liked to spare her the remembrance of it, there was one pressing question to which he needed to hear the confirmation from her.

"Who locked you in the attic?"

She sighed deeply. "Lady Tremaine. She found your letter and read it. I never had a chance to read it myself, so I don't know what... Well, whatever you wrote, it made her so angry. She wanted to use me – to get a position at court, to get to you. I couldn't allow that to happen, so she locked me up and took the letter from me." She paused. "And a lock of hair." There was a question in her eyes.

He reached into his pocket and gave her the letter, showing her the lock of hair within. She fingered it gingerly. "I'm not sure exactly how long I was in the attic. The mice tried to bring me food and water after my stepmother and stepsisters left…"

"Do you have any idea where they went?" She shook her head.

"They will be found. They will not evade the king's justice." There was a thunderous expression on his face.

"Kit," she said gently, "please be kind."

"Kind? Ella, they abused you, stole from you, and tried to murder you!"

"I know, but…I don't want anyone to be hurt because of me." She looked down, and he sensed that she was trying to reconcile her basic desire to want the best for everyone with the magnitude of what she had experienced.

"Ella," he said, and she looked up to see him looking seriously at her, "I know it is not in your nature to wish punishment on those who have hurt you. But what kind of a king would I be if I did not seek justice for the crimes that have been committed against you? I would be failing in my duty to my people if I allowed such actions to go unchallenged." He hoped that she could understand what he was trying to tell her, that his responsibilities went beyond his feelings in this particular case, that he would seek justice for any of his subjects who had been mistreated so cruelly.

She nodded slowly, "I understand. You have an obligation, and I can see that there is a difference between punishment and justice. But I do not think my stepsisters, at least, knew what was happening. They are foolish and selfish, but their mother must carry the greatest share of any blame."

He didn't argue the point with her, and she went on, "In any case, I might never have met you if their cruelty had not driven me to the forest that day. And so I cannot be wholly sorry about their treatment of me." She smiled at him, with a little of her old happy look coming into her eyes.

"You did not deserve it," he said, pressing her hand, wondering at her ability to find good in even the darkest deeds.

"No," she agreed, "but still I cannot completely regret it, given that it led me here, to you."

Her words lifted his heart more than anything else, and he marvelled not for the first time at her courage, her unbroken spirit. He had been terribly afraid that her ordeal would have been too much, that even if she recovered physically, the internal scars might never heal completely. But now he could see that her spirit was still alive, in need of rest and recovery, but not broken, not gone.

"I should go, allow you to rest." He desperately wished he could take her in his arms again, but instead pressed another kiss to her hand and said his farewell.

Ella leaned back into her pillow as the nurse came back into the room, and picked up the letter she had now finally received, allowing his words to wash over her and fill her once again with hope and happiness.

* * *

Kit sat on the throne and watched silently as the Grand Duke approached and bowed. He kept a tight leash on his feelings. The Captain stood behind him, a strong steady presence watching the proceedings.

"Your Majesty, how may I be of service?"

"Grand Duke," Kit began, and clasped his hands together to keep them still. "I am sure that you have heard that Miss Devereux is recovering from her ordeal."

"Indeed, Sire. I thank God that your Majesty was able to assist her in time."

"Do you, your Grace?" The sharpness in Kit's voice brought a wary look into the Grand Duke's countenance, but Kit gave him no time to dwell on it.

"As you know, Lady Tremaine and her daughters are sought across the kingdom, that they may answer for their crimes against her. I wondered if you perhaps knew where they might have gone."

"Sire, how should I? I only ever met the woman once, briefly, at the ball." The brazen lie only increased Kit's fury, and there was ice in his voice when he spoke.

"Indeed? Then perhaps you would care to explain why she was visiting you, the evening after Miss Devereux was imprisoned?" He waited, to see if the Grand Duke would admit his part.

"A lie, your Majesty! I don't know what you have been told, but…"

"Enough!" Kit interrupted and rose to his feet. "How dare you lie to your king? I know that you met with her – did you really think I would not find out? Tell me, did you know what she was planning to do? What did you offer her in return for keeping Ella away from me?"

The Grand Duke quailed under Kit's hard stare, and he bent his knee. "Sire, I have only ever acted for the good of the kingdom."

"The good of the kingdom? You partake in intrigue and murder and call it good?" Kit clenched his fists.

"No, Sire! I did not know how far she would go…" There he stopped, realising that he had given himself away. When the king said nothing, the Grand Duke went on, "I did not believe that Lady Tremaine would stoop to such extreme measures. I believed that she would merely hide the girl, keep her away until you had forgotten about her."

"Go on," Kit said. When the Grand Duke said nothing, he added, "You will gain nothing further by silence. I _will_ know your part in this treasonous plot."

The Grand Duke stood and faced the young king. "You call it treason, Sire, but I do not. Lady Tremaine came to me with your letter to the girl. It was unthinkable to allow a servant, with no birth, breeding or position, to become queen. In return for concealing her, I promised Lady Tremaine a title and marriages for her daughters. I believed that, once your Majesty got over this ridiculous infatuation, you could be persuaded to marry Princess Chelina as I had originally planned. I acted to protect the kingdom from a queen who could bring nothing but disgrace and scandal on us."

"That was not your decision to make! I am king, and I decide what the kingdom needs!" Reining in his anger with an effort, Kit took a deep breath and sat back down on his throne.

"You have been a trusted advisor to the crown for many years. My father trusted you, as I did. But he saw, as you clearly cannot, that there is more to being worthy of the crown than lands and titles and birthright. He taught me that a king and queen must embody the best of a nation, to set an example to the people, and show the world what kind of a country we are. He told me to marry the one I loved and thought was worthy of such a task.

"Your actions nearly robbed me of that chance, and the kingdom of the best queen it could ever hope for. I call that treason. You conspired behind my back, lied to my face, and promised to reward a criminal deed with riches. I call _that_ treason. Have you anything further to say?"

The Grand Duke shook his head, silent in the face of the king's regal bearing.

"I will ask you again. Do you know where Lady Tremaine is?"

"I… provided her with funds, and suggested she repair to a small country cottage that belongs to my cousin, in the northern hills." The Grand Duke's shoulders fell, realising for the first time the extent of his culpability.

"You will tell the Captain where she may be found." Kit's tone was hard and brooked no opposition.

"Yes, Sire. What will you do with me?" The Grand Duke began to squirm during the silence that followed his question.

Kit looked him straight in the face. "You have admitted complicity in several crimes by the laws of our land. I hereby strip you of all your titles and your position at court. You will be confined to your chambers until Lady Tremaine is located, at which time I will decide how to proceed. Attempt to leave the palace, however, and I will amend that to confinement in the dungeon." The Grand Duke went pale and bowed, accepting the sentence. Kit nodded to the guards by the door, and they escorted the former Grand Duke out of the room.

Kit took a deep breath and released it.

"That was well done, your Majesty," the Captain said from behind him. "Your father would have been proud."

* * *

AN: I know some of you have been waiting for the Grand Duke to get his comeuppance - hope this was as satisfying to read as it was to write!


	11. Chapter 11

Standing in front of the mirror in her room, Ella barely recognised herself. Kit had insisted on providing her with a new wardrobe and sent the royal seamstress to take her measurements. She supposed he had a point – now that she was up and about, she could hardly wander about the palace in her old blue dress. Over the last few weeks, as she had regained her health, new gowns, undergarments, shoes and gloves had arrived almost daily, until she was rather overwhelmed with the amount of fine things she now possessed.

Ella smoothed the skirt of her new dress, delighting in the crisp fabric. It had been so long since she had worn anything new. Thankfully the seamstress had listened to her request for nothing too extravagant, and the soft forest green dress was embellished only with black piping and silver buttons at the cuffs.

Anna, the young maid assigned to her, passed her a pair of warm gloves to hold off the autumn chill, and Ella said a sincere thank you – she still felt odd to have servants waiting on her, but Kit had assured her that all the palace servants were well treated, and she could see herself that they enjoyed their work.

"Are you ready, Miss Devereux?" the officer who stood at the door asked. She nodded and walked with him through the palace, grateful for the escort so as not to lose her way in the extensive corridors.

The king was waiting in the lower hallway, a dark blue coat suiting his tall frame beautifully. She bowed to him, and saw in his eyes how pleased he was to see her. As her recovery had progressed, she had seen less of him, as he turned his attentions back to the necessary business of ruling the kingdom. Today, though, she would have him to herself.

"I have a gift for you." Kit turned to the footman standing beside him and lifted a large grey shawl from his arm. Ella ran her fingers over the soft lambswool woven with intricate patterns.

"It's lovely, thank you," she said, and turned so that he could place it over her shoulders.

"There is a chill in the air today, and the doctor insists you be kept warm," he said, and they turned together towards the door. "I think he would have tried to persuade you to stay here, if I hadn't told him it was futile to attempt it."

She giggled a little. "Just so. Though, you did not have to buy me a gift just to assuage his doubts."

"Perhaps not, but it suits you wonderfully." He admired her graceful figure wrapped in the soft shawl as they walked into the carriage drive.

"Of course," she said with a smile, "technically, everything I'm wearing was a gift from you."

She meant it as a joke, but Kit's face fell a little as he handed her into the carriage. When they were both seated, he said, "I don't want you to feel obligated to me, Ella."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. I'm only grateful for everything you have done for me."

Kit wanted to tell her that he would give her everything she desired, do anything to make her happy. But during her recovery, he had felt oddly shy about speaking of his feelings; he did not think she remembered his words of love when he had found her cold and dying in the attic. He wanted her to be well and strong again before he asked her to make any important decisions, and he worried about the pressure she might feel from living under his roof.

As if she had read his mind, she said, "I'm glad to be going to see my home again. You've been so kind to let me stay at the palace so long."

"Well, it's not like I don't have the space," he replied, making her laugh.

Kit had explained to her several days ago what the Captain had discovered about her father's will. As usual, she had immediately looked for the positives, telling him how much it meant to her that the house belonged to her now, and insisting that she wanted to visit it at the earliest opportunity. He, in turn, insisted that they use the carriage rather than riding there as she had first proposed – though the colour had returned to her skin and the brightness to her eyes, she was still thinner than before and tired easily. He was also determined to go with her, despite his other duties; though she seemed in good spirits, he could not imagine what she might feel when faced with the place she had so nearly lost her life, and he felt an almost desperate need to protect and support her through any difficult moments.

"I'm afraid the door was damaged beyond repair when we came to find you," Kit told her as they pulled around the driveway. "I took the liberty of having a new one installed," and he handed her the key.

Ella stepped out of the carriage and looked up at her beloved old home. She did feel great joy at the fact that it belonged to her. Kit had also told her that her father's fortune would be restored to her from the Tremaine estate. Although she had protested at first, she had to concede the inherent justice of his decision. The money would allow her to restore the house and employ some of the former household staff to look after it.

What she was not sure of, though she had said nothing to Kit, was whether she could ever bring herself to live there again. Despite her happy memories, there was now also much sadness and pain. Still, she would prepare the house just in case. Though the king had made no move to suggest that she leave the palace, and she did not really think he wanted her to, she did not want to presume anything about the duration of her stay there.

Kit pulled her from her reverie by asking her how long the house had been in her family. "Two hundred years at least, father said." They walked together towards the new front door, leaving the guardsmen who had accompanied them behind. She gestured towards the fountain in the centre of the driveway. "That is where I would sit and watch for him to come home from his journeys. He always brought me a gift, and stories of distant lands and strange exotic people."

Ella unlocked the front door, and paused on the threshold, overwhelmed by a torrent of conflicting feelings. Always sensitive to her mood, Kit asked her gently if she would prefer to go in alone.

She surprised him though, by reaching for his hand and drawing him across the threshold. "Of course not," she said quietly. "I have so much to share with you."

They explored the ground floor of the house. Kit admired some of the antiques in the parlour, and she told him how many more there were waiting in the attic, removed by her stepmother in her efforts to scrub her mother and father from the house. In a corner, she found the rolled-up map on which her father had plotted his journeys abroad, and she showed Kit the many countries he had visited, just as her father had shown her.

In the library, she sat down on the sofa and pulled him down next to her. She was silent for a long time, but Kit was content in her presence, letting her work through what she was feeling. Eventually she spoke quietly.

"This is where my mother told me her great secret before she died, and this is where I promised her I would always follow it. To have courage…"

"…And be kind," Kit finished for her, as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"She told me that there is power in kindness, even magic. There were times when I doubted what she said; I was kind always to my stepmother and stepsisters, and it seemed to only bring me grief and toil. I tried to stay true to what she taught me."

"You did. Ella, your kindness, to everyone from mice and bluebirds to stags and princes, is what saved you." She nodded, then gestured to the sofa they were sitting on.

"When I was a child, I thought kindness would always be rewarded, but here is where I realised for the first time that was not necessarily true. The day my father left on his last journey, I sat here and offered my room to my stepsisters – they were arguing about something or other, and I only wanted to make things better for them. In return, my stepmother banished me to the attic. That was where it all began."

She stopped abruptly, and Kit took her hand, saying, "You don't have to tell me painful memories."

She shook her head. "I promised to tell you everything, remember?"

They walked slowly through the house, and Ella shared her memories, both good and bad. She told him of her golden childhood, of being surrounded by the love of her parents, and of what had followed after they had left her behind. Kit listened, and felt as if she was opening windows for him into herself; with each story she told, he saw more of who she was. If he had needed any further proof that she was the best and bravest person he had ever met, he received it in spades, and loved her more every second for it.

In the kitchen, she paused by the hearth, picking up a dusty old cushion and turning it over in her hands.

"Did I ever tell you that they called me 'Cinderella'?" He shook his head. "I used to sleep here, when it was too cold in the attic. One morning, I came to the breakfast table with ash on my face. My stepsisters laughed and called me names, and my stepmother banished me from eating with them. After that, they never treated me as one of the family again."

She put down the cushion and turned to him. "I felt…trapped, and so alone. So I took my horse out to the forest. I needed to feel free of them even for just a few moments. That was when I met a stag, and he led me to a kind and handsome apprentice." The look on her face took his breath away a little.

"Well, I don't recall seeing any ash on your face that day. I only remember meeting a beautiful and intriguing young lady, and feeling foolish as I rode away that I hadn't discovered her name." He clasped her hand.

"No one will ever call you horrid names again, Ella," he said with great sincerity.

"Perhaps," she said, but her face clouded over a little. "Sometimes I still feel like Cinderella, the serving girl. I'm not sure if that feeling will ever go away completely."

He kissed her hand again, and they stood together for a moment in silence. She had so much to heal from, and he told her so. "But, Ella, if I've learned anything about you today, it's that you are stronger than you know. You can overcome this – and I will help you, if you'll let me."

Before he could say any more, she told him that she wanted to go up to the attic. He protested, fearing that the long climb would tire her, but she insisted gently, and he followed her slowly up the long staircase. The door was still hanging off to the side from where they had burst in. He watched her carefully as she looked around and walked over to the window. He saw her shiver and wrap the grey shawl around herself. Kit too felt cold, both because of the draft coming in through the cracks in the walls, and the remembrance of how close he had come to losing her.

"How did you manage to send your message to me?" he asked, trying to distract her a little from her thoughts, and she explained how the bluebirds and mice had worked together.

"Have you always been able to talk to animals?" Kit had often wondered where her power came from.

"As long as I can remember," she said. "My mother told me that if I believed they could understand me, then they would, and I have always found it to be so." She found her mother's portrait in a box, and showed it to him.

"You take after her," he remarked. "You should bring it back with you to the palace." She nodded, and together they gathered up a few of her belongings to take back with them.

"Are you ready to go?" Kit asked. She looked about the attic, sadness written all over her face.

"Yes. I do not think…I don't wish to presume on your goodness, but I don't think I can live in this house again, at least not yet."

"You don't need to, Ella. You have a home at the palace, for as long as…well, for as long as you want it."

"Then let us go home, Mr Kit." Her smile gave him the certainty that despite her obvious sadness and pain, she was coming out from under the shadow of her misfortunes. Visiting the house would, hopefully, be another step towards closing this difficult chapter of her life. For his own part, Kit hoped that he was not mistaken about what else he saw in her gentle expression. His heart was full to bursting with wanting to tell her everything he felt, but this dusty attic where she had suffered was not the right place. He would have to wait a little longer for the right moment.


	12. Chapter 12

As they arrived back at the palace, Kit and Ella saw that the Captain and a detachment of guards were dismounting in the stable yard next to a carriage. Kit realised in a moment what was about to happen, but it was too late to hurry Ella away, as the carriage door opened and Lady Tremaine stepped down.

Beside him, he heard a sharp intake of breath. As Anastasia and Drisella joined their mother and looked about them shyly, he turned to see that Ella was staring at them with wide eyes. Instinctively she drew the shawl he had given her more closely around her shoulders.

"Please, Ella – go inside. You don't need to…" but she interrupted him immediately.

"No, I do." She lifted her chin, and he looked over to see that Lady Tremaine was staring at her with undisguised fury and disgust. Had they not been in front of half the palace guard, he might have let his anger fly at that very moment, but a warning look from the Captain reminded him of who he was. Instead, he clamped down hard on his feelings, and held out his arm to Ella, who clasped it with only a little tremble.

Together, they walked over to where the Captain was standing. Anastasia and Drisella bowed as the king approached, but Lady Tremaine was motionless, her eyes never leaving Ella's face. Both of them ignored all three Tremaine ladies, and instead the king addressed the Captain.

"Escort our…guests…to the throne room. I will be there momentarily."

As the Captain and several guards ushered the women away, he let out the breath he had been holding.

"I am going to deal with this right now. I don't want them in the palace any longer than absolutely necessary. Ella, I'm sorry you had to see them, it was not my intention."

She shook her head. "It's alright. Really, I'm well. I don't know if it is appropriate, but I should like to come with you. I need to face them."

Although he wanted to protect her from those vile women with every fibre in his body, Kit could understand her request. Having been in battle himself, he could see that she was girding herself to face the enemy, and he could not refuse her the chance to participate in resolving her past. Kit had spent many sleepless hours wondering what he would do when Lady Tremaine was finally found, but he had not reached a conclusion, and now the moment had arrived before he was really ready. He sent a silent prayer to his father to guide him.

"Come, then," he said, and escorted Ella through the palace to the throne room. The Captain was waiting outside the door.

"Where were they found?" Kit asked without ceremony.

"Not at the house the Grand Duke gave them, Sire. They were intercepted at the northern border crossing. My guess is that they were somehow informed that Miss Devereux survived." Kit had no need to guess how they had been told of it; he suddenly wished that he _had_ put the Grand Duke in the dungeon.

"Thank you, Captain." He turned to Ella. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, handing her shawl and gloves to a nearby maid, and smoothing her skirt a little nervously. They entered the throne room together, and walked slowly towards the three women. He noticed that the two daughters were standing separately from their mother, and he could feel their eyes following him as he took his place on the dais. Ella walked slowly up to the two girls, but said nothing.

Drisella spoke first. "Ella," she whispered shyly, and then to everyone's astonishment, curtsied to her. "I'm so sorry."

"So sorry," Anastasia echoed, also bowing. "We…didn't know… Mama told us you had run away." That cleared up one point of confusion for Kit; Ella had been sure that they were not involved in their mother's scheming, but he had wondered how Lady Tremaine had explained Ella's sudden absence and their relocation to her daughters.

Ella, meanwhile, was studying both girls with an expression of pity on her face. "I forgive you," she said slowly. "For everything."

"Truly?" Drisella asked, "We were…that is, we could have treated you better." Kit was surprised to note how ashamed she sounded. From Ella's description of her stepsisters, he had not thought either of them was capable of that feeling.

"Yes, you could have," Ella said, more strength coming into her voice. "I would have welcomed you as my sisters with open arms if you had let me. But I don't resent you for your part in all this."

"Oh, thank you," Anastasia said, "because we really have been travelling very far, and it seems terribly unfair that we should be locked up when it is all Mama's fault, and we had nothing to do with anything…"

"Oh, do shut up," Lady Tremaine interrupted, contempt dripping from her voice, and both her daughters shrank back and fell into a moody silence. Kit felt a sudden burst of pity for these unfortunate girls, who had been taught to be cruel and unkind because it was the only way they could get their mother's approval. Judging by their behaviour today, it seemed that they had now perhaps realised just what kind of creature Lady Tremaine was.

Kit was about to intervene, but Ella turned to him and shook her head. Then she walked up to Lady Tremaine and looked her squarely in the face. He saw several expressions cross her countenance, and then she spoke quietly,

"Why?"

"Why, what?" Lady Tremaine shot back, not the least bit intimidated. Kit could only shake his head at her arrogance, given that she must know what crimes she was guilty of. But he allowed Ella to continue, knowing that she needed to face this moment herself.

"Why are you so cruel? I have always tried to be kind to you."

"You, kind to me?" Lady Tremaine sneered.

"Yes! I did everything you asked of me, and never complained, though you treated me as no one deserves to be treated. Why did you do it? Why?!" Ella cried aloud.

At last, Lady Tremaine's reserve broke. "Why? Because you are young, and innocent and – good. And I…" She stopped abruptly, then went on. "Why should you have what I lost? Love and wealth and beauty – all was taken from me. I loved my first husband, and he died, and he took everything I ever loved with him. And your father – he worshipped you, just like he worshipped your saint of a mother. What made her so much better than me? What made _you_ so much better than me? You did nothing to deserve your happiness, while I suffered loss after loss after loss. Why shouldn't I try to make things better for myself for a change?" She spat the words into Ella's face, then glared at her with all the hatred and contempt in her sickened soul.

Kit shut his eyes for a second, as the full vindictiveness of Lady Tremaine's treatment of Ella was made apparent. When he opened them again, he found that Ella had not been cowed by this tirade, but was looking calmly and quietly at her stepmother.

"I forgive you," she said softly, and Kit's eyes widened with shock. "I'm sorry for the bad things that happened to you, truly. But it is how we respond to suffering that determines our happiness in life. I could hate you for what you did to me, for what you took from me. But I choose to forgive you so that what you did will no longer have any power over me." Lady Tremaine seemed struck dumb by this gentle, heartfelt speech, and Kit himself could hardly believe that Ella, after all she had suffered, could muster the courage to face up to her enemy and not turn to resentment and anger.

Ella turned away and strode towards him with determined steps. "Your Majesty," she said, and curtsied deeply. Then she walked up the dais to stand next to him and said quietly, "Do what you must."

Kit clenched his fists, then released them to let go of some of his anger. His father had always told him not to make a judgement in anger, but it was harder than he thought. He could not dismiss from his mind the image of Ella lying cold and dying in his arms. This woman was at the root of all of it. Ella might have the heart of an angel to offer her forgiveness, but he was not quite ready to do so. He started with the easier part.

"Miss Drisella, Miss Anastasia, though you claim to have been unaware of your mother's actions, I must still consider you as accessories to theft and attempted murder. Do you have anything…"

"No!" Lady Tremaine shouted, and stepped in front of her daughters. "They knew nothing. I must take the blame. Leave them out of it." Finally he saw something like fear in her eyes. He stared at her coldly, and she bowed slowly and lowered her eyes. "Please, your Majesty, have mercy on my daughters."

Beside him he could feel Ella stir, as if she was about to say something. He looked into her big brown eyes, warm and calm, and he knew what she wanted him to do, as clearly as if she had said it aloud.

He turned back to the three ladies. "Very well," he said. "Lady Tremaine, I give you a choice. You can leave my kingdom today and never return. Or you can stay, and you will be tried for theft, treason and attempted murder in a public court. You know the punishment for such crimes, if you are found guilty. Choose."

"I choose banishment, your Majesty," she said, without hesitation. He let go of the breath he had been holding. Although a part of him wanted nothing more than to bring the full weight of the law down on her, banishment would spare Ella the pain of having to relive her suffering any further, and allow both of them to simply move on with their lives.

He looked at the two girls, who were still standing apart from their mother, and were refusing to look at her.

"Anastasia and Drisella Tremaine, I will also give you a choice. You may go with your mother into exile. Or you may stay here. You will be granted the remainder of your father's fortune, and allowed to settle in my kingdom, provided that you do not approach Miss Devereux ever again unless she wishes it. Choose."

The two girls looked at each other, and then over at their mother. "Ummm…" Drisella said, and then the three women started whispering to each other, gesticulating wildly. Several minutes passed while they argued. Kit was about to call a halt when Anastasia stepped forward, her head held high.

"Have you decided?" Kit asked her.

"Yes, your Majesty. My sister and I would like to remain here." Behind her, Drisella nodded in assent. Lady Tremaine looked stricken. It occurred to Kit that the two sisters had devised a better punishment for their mother than he ever could have – to be separated forever from the only thing she actually cared about. For that alone, he reflected with grim satisfaction, it had been worth offering the two daughters a chance at redemption.

"Very well. Appropriate arrangements will be made." He indicated to the guards to take all three of them away, then turned to Ella. "Satisfactory?"

"Yes, dear Kit. Thank you."

"I warn you, though, that if you manage a reconciliation with those two ridiculous girls, I may find that you have exceeded the bounds of all human kindness, and that you are clearly some fairy creature with magical powers." She giggled as he led her out of the room, and he rejoiced at the lightness in her voice.

"Remember what my mother said. There is magic and power in kindness, and perhaps we will see just how much."

* * *

AN: So, I know a lot of you have been itching to see the Tremaines punished, but this was a tough chapter to get right. I wanted to find a balance between staying true to Ella's character at the end of the movie, and the rather more extreme treatment she has received in my story. I'd love to know what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

Kit signed the last paper, sealed it with the royal seal, and handed it to the waiting Captain. It had been a very long day. Now that the official mourning time for his father had ended, state business had restarted in earnest. On top of that, he had yet to name a new Grand Duke, and the lack of one had increased his own workload exponentially. He made a mental note to see to it as soon as he could find the time.

Today he had risen even earlier than normal to enable him to finish his work early, and had sent a note to Ella asking her to dine with him. Kit had seen much less of her over the past weeks than he would have liked, but even so the joy of calling in on her, at least for a few minutes each day, had only increased his certainty that he wished to share all of his life with her. Her recovery now complete, she too had resumed a more active schedule, spending much time at her house supervising the renovations and reengaging the staff. He was thankful that Lieutenant James had willingly appointed himself as her personal escort on each of her rides, but couldn't help being jealous that he could not accompany her himself.

They did, often, manage a brief time together in the evenings. Once Ella had discovered the palace's vast library, she usually read there after dinner, and he took to relocating his evening review of state papers so that they could sit in companionable silence together. Occasionally he would tell her what he was doing, and enjoyed her insightful comments and gentle wit. Once or twice she had read aloud to him; he could think of few pleasures greater than allowing her voice to soothe him after a long day of work.

Their existence had been a quiet sort of domesticity; there had been few social engagements for him to attend. Now, however, with the mourning period over, court life was resuming in earnest. Tomorrow evening he would host his first ball; a commemoration of the end of the war, to which he had invited many of his former comrades and their families.

Ella, too, would attend, and it would effectively represent her introduction to the court and nobility. Of course, rumours about her presence in the palace had swirled constantly since she had arrived, the story of the daring rescue mounted by the king in person attracting the wildest speculation. The general consensus seemed to be that she was some foreign princess kidnapped at birth and held captive by an evil fairy. Although he did not care about the gossip, having been at the centre of such ridiculous talk for years, he knew that it made Ella very uncomfortable. During her recovery, she had kept very much to herself, and he had not been seen much in her company in public, not wanting to give the gossipmongers any excuse to accuse them of impropriety. Tomorrow evening at the ball they would be under everyone's scrutiny, and he had decided that he could not present her to the court without knowing himself what she would be to him in the future. Hence, the evening's dinner – it was time for him to ask her.

Coming out of his reverie, he began shuffling the piles of papers on his desk, and looked up to find the Captain grinning broadly at him.

"What?" Kit asked. The Captain quickly tried to school his features to a more neutral expression, but Kit raised an eyebrow, and the Captain actually burst out laughing.

"My apologies, your Majesty. It's just…you look even more nervous than the first time you were waiting to meet her, even though you know she will definitely be here tonight."

Kit had to acknowledge the funny side. "I can't help it, my friend. I have never…asked a woman for her hand before. These last weeks have been wonderful, having her so nearby – if she says no, I fear I will lose her forever."

"Kit," the Captain said gently, "never fear; I don't think you need to doubt her affections. No one who has seen you together could do so."

"Perhaps," Kit smiled a little, buoyed up by his friend's confidence, "but I won't rest until I hear it from her lips."

* * *

Ella, for her part, was also rather nervous, as she waited for the king in the small dining room. She had not dined with him privately before, though they had occasionally eaten breakfast together, and she did not know what the evening would bring. Every day she read over the letter Kit had written to her, pondering the meaning of the words. Had he changed his mind about her, now that he knew more about what she was and what had happened to her? He had said nothing over the past few weeks – had she been mistaken about his regard for her?

Before she could contemplate it any further, the door opened and Kit came into the room.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting; I am heartily sick of signing papers, it always takes longer than I think it will." He pulled her chair out for her, and as the servants began to serve the first course, she asked him what was taking up so much of his time.

"This business with Zaragosa again, unfortunately. The king there is rather put out that the promise the former Grand Duke made to him hasn't been kept." As they began to eat, he explained that he had received word that his former advisor had chosen Zaragosa for his exile, and was apparently dripping poison into the king's ear.

"I'm sorry. I know he was a friend for many years."

"So am I. I cannot understand him, for if he claims to have our kingdom's best interests at heart, he is certainly not acting in them just now. I am beginning to wish I had kept him here rather than offering him exile as I did for Lady Tremaine." He shook his head.

Ella, seeing that the topic made him sad, began to tell him cheerfully about her work to restore the house, her joy that so many of her father's former household had agreed to return. She described the loveliness of the autumn colour in the forest as they rode to and from the village, and his heart lifted as she talked. Though he could never be glad at what she had suffered, having her at the palace had allowed them both the time to become better acquainted with each other, to be relaxed in each other's presence. He did not think he could have been so calm in her company without these weeks together.

After dinner, he invited her to walk with him in the gardens. It was a balmy evening, the autumn having graced them with one last warm spell. As they walked down the tree-lined avenue, Kit asked her if she was looking forward to the ball tomorrow evening.

"Yes; at least this time I can actually attend," Ella answered, "although I must admit that I'm a little nervous. All those fine nobles and courtiers, and me, just a common country girl..."

"I could make you a duchess, if it would make you feel better," he joked. She was not to know that he had seriously considered the idea; he could think of no one more worthy of such an honour, but he knew that Ella would never wish to appear to be something she wasn't.

"That would never do," she answered, smiling, "I must do my best as I am. Although I can't pretend not to be pleased to at least have a new gown this time."

During their conversation, he had led her down to the east walk, and they stopped outside a wooden door, half hidden behind a curtain of ivy. "What's this?" she asked.

"I've never shown this place to anyone," he replied, and pushed the door open. Her expression as she preceded him was everything he had imagined.

"A secret garden," she exclaimed with delight. "Oh, I love it!" Her eyes danced from the roses, still blooming despite the season, to the swing hanging from the bough of an oak tree.

"This was my mother's garden," he told her as he moved to stand by the swing. "She tended the roses herself. This is where we would come to feel like a normal family. Sometimes, we'd hide away here all day, mother, father and I, our own private world where we could just be ourselves."

"It's beautiful," she said, coming to stand beside the swing. He gestured towards it.

"Please."

"Oh I shouldn't," she said, but he could see in her face how much she wanted to.

"You should."

"I shouldn't!"

"You _should_ ," he emphasised again.

"I will," and she took her place on the wooden seat.

"May I?" he asked, and at her nod he placed his hand on the small of her back and pushed. As she swung forwards and back, she giggled with delight, and he knew that it had been worth waiting for this moment, this place, to tell her all he felt.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she said, "Kit?" and he stopped the swing so she could look up at him.

"This is the place, isn't it? The special place you mentioned in your letter?" He nodded, his heartbeat pulsing wildly through his ears. She hadn't mentioned his letter to him since the day he'd finally delivered it to her.

"What was the question? You said there was a question..." she trailed off, and he could see that she was too nervous to go on.

"Ella." He said her name with all the love and longing in his heart. "Surely you must know?"

When she only looked at him with her wide brown eyes, he came around and dropped to his knee in front of her, taking both her hands in his.

"I wanted to wait to ask you – until you were recovered. You are a woman of property and means now, and not reliant on me to save or protect you anymore." He took a deep breath, trying to recall the words he had rehearsed so often in his mind. He couldn't remember a single variation of the proposal he had imagined, so he ploughed on with what was in his heart.

"But surely you must know that I love you, that I have been falling in love with you since the very first time we met. When I thought you were dead," he still shuddered at the memory of those terrible days, "I felt as though the light was gone from my life forever. When you were restored to me, it was like being able to breathe again. And now I cannot imagine my life without you anymore.

"Ella, will you stay with me, by my side, as my wife and queen?" He held his breath, looking into her honest brown eyes, trying to read in them what she was feeling.

"Kit," she said, voice trembling slightly, "I don't know how to be a queen. I am just an honest country girl. I have nothing to offer you except my love."

He thought his heart might stop on hearing her say the word, hope blossoming in him like the roses surrounding them. "That's all I want, Ella. If I have your love I will count myself the most fortunate of men."

"Of course you have it, dearest Mr Kit. You have always had it." And then she was smiling at him, her eyes shining, and he thought that he might burst from happiness.

"Then...you will?" he asked, grasping her hands tightly, hardly able to believe it.

"Yes," she said, and then he was standing and pulling her to her feet, and his lips were on hers, and he was no longer a king, but simply a man, standing with his love in his arms and feeling as if he had been blessed with riches beyond his imagination.


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Huge apologies for the delay in posting the final part - I've had some technical difficulties.

* * *

Epilogue

The next evening, Kit looked out of the window as he strapped on his dress sword and adjusted his white dress coat one more time. Tonight was the commemoration ball, the first big event he was hosting as king. The line of carriages coming up the drive reminded him of the last ball he had attended, and he smiled at his reflection in the window glass. How much things had changed since that night.

Half an hour later, Kit was fiddling with his sword belt a little nervously, despite the fact that he was greeting his guests. Ella had yet to make an appearance, and with almost all of the other guests now present, he was beginning to wonder what was keeping her.

Kit had thrown this ball open to the soldiers who had returned with him from the war, and their families, and he greeted many of his former comrades, thanking them for their service and asking those who had been injured how they were recovering. Standing rather shyly in a corner, he spotted Anastasia and Drisella Tremaine. Kit had been rather surprised when they had taken up his offer to remain in the kingdom rather than go with their mother. He had _not_ been surprised when Ella insisted they be invited to the ball as the first step towards a new and improved relationship with them. Though he would never forgive them completely for their treatment of his beloved, he nodded a brief acknowledgement to them as he passed.

Kit exchanged a few words with Lieutenant James, who was not on duty that evening and looked rather uncomfortable to be enjoying the ball rather than guarding it as usual. He, and a number of the other guardsmen who had been present at Ella's rescue, asked him whether Miss Devereux would be attending, and had Kit been less distracted, he would have noticed the indulgent smiles that followed him as he made his way around the hall from those who knew enough of the situation to understand his nerves.

Just as he was beginning to think that he would need to send someone in search of Ella once again, the doors opened with a loud clang. The sound attracted the attention of the whole room, and everyone present fell silent at the sight of the young lady at the top of the steps.

Kit thought fleetingly that the royal seamstress had outdone herself this time, before his thoughts were overtaken by a flush of love and desire that seemed to stretch from the top of his head down to his very toes. Ella stood there, a vision in pale silvery blue, gazing around the room with unmistakable delight. He wasn't the only one who couldn't tear his eyes away; every man and woman in the room was staring at her. Even the poor herald had to take several deep breaths before he remembered to do his duty and announce her.

"Miss Eleanor Devereux," he called, and a soft rush of chatter filled the room. No one could quite believe that the graceful young woman now coming slowly down the staircase was a mere commoner.

Kit felt a little push on his shoulder. The Captain stood behind him, grinning more broadly than ever, and leaned in to say quietly to the king, "Well, go on then."

Then Kit's feet were moving, and the crowd was parting, and she was coming towards him. As she approached he saw that her gown was studded with tiny silver crystals, the many fine layers of fabric swishing and swaying as she walked, her curls bouncing a little as she came to a stop. She wore no jewels; she needed no such adornment.

As she dropped into a low curtsy in front of him, he couldn't help his gaze being drawn to the expanse of smooth, pale skin displayed by the low neckline of her gown. The sight left him breathless and rather flustered. As she rose, he looked into her eyes and, despite the fact that she looked more regal than any princess he'd met, her expression was as lively and trusting as it had always been.

"Your Majesty," she said for the benefit of the room, then whispered, "Mr Kit", for him alone.

"My lady," he said. He had to clear his throat before he could continue. Even though he knew she loved him, knew that she was going to be his wife, he still found himself stammering and stuttering as though they were meeting for the first time. "I would be honoured – that is, it would give me the greatest pleasure if you would allow me to lead you through this. The first…" He suddenly couldn't remember what he was trying to say.

"Dance?" she said with a conspiratorial smile.

"Yes, dance, that's it," and he laughed, betraying his nerves to every single person in the room. He didn't care in the least, as she nodded and he stepped towards her.

Kit had thought of this moment more times than he could count, ever since he had first met her. But nothing could have prepared him for how it felt to place his hand on Ella's tightly corseted waist to lead her into the dance. She took an involuntary breath in, her expression turning to something that made his heart beat even faster. As the music started and he led her into the opening steps, he was dimly aware of the entire gathering watching them.

It seemed she had noticed it as well, for as she turned back to him she said with a slight gasp, "They're all looking at you."

He shook his head and almost laughed. "Believe me, my love, they are all looking at you."

He let the music and the moment take him, and focused only on her; the way she followed his lead so gracefully, her skirt swishing about him as they turned, the feel of her fingers on his arm. As he took her into full ballroom hold and brought her closer to him, everything else blurred into the background in the face of her brown eyes, shining with her love for him.

And as they finished their dance and bowed to each other, as the entire crowd burst into spontaneous applause and he could see the looks of approval on the faces surrounding them, Kit knew that the best part of his life was just beginning.

* * *

AN: There we have it! I will leave it to your imaginations whether the royal seamstress's dress can match what the fairy godmother produced, but I had to give Kit and Ella their moment in the ballroom.

When I started writing this story on a whim, I had no idea that it would turn into the longest thing I've written in years. A huge thank you to everyone who posted positive reviews and sent encouragement - I really appreciated every single comment!


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